[attr="class","mdhappsectit"]personality

[attr="class","mdhapptext"]

If I were to bare myself entirely, you'd see a man with many stories to tell. You wouldn't see every single one of my scars, but I would gladly explain each, all with a smile and laugh.
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There is a creature in my childhood books that I have fallen in love with. I have crafted myself after this beast and have taken it's name as my own. Call me Crocodile! Stay on my good side and I'll snap at anyone that hurts ya. Get on my bad side and you better climb for the trees. I've fought many battles and respect is something I want to see in every action- from the shake of a hand to a parting wave.
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I'm a criminal-at-heart and I may be too grim for your tastes, but that's how life is. For every truly good man or woman, there is a devil. I'm far from that label, but that's only because I have something to look forward to when I come home. Her name is Medana, and she is my sister.
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For every fist I throw, reason or not, she always tends to them. I often get into brawls whenever I see someone acting like a total idiot. I've had many friends come and go during my travels overseas and they pounded knowledge and beliefs into my core. I fight for them; I avenge their names and I hate to see them soiled by the rats of the streets I lurk beneath. I do not ever make the first move. I wait until I hear something that really grinds my gears and I lash out.
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I talk a lot, and sometimes it isn't enough. I've heard people talk about me, too. They say I left home to cause problems in other cities and towns in Orre and who-knows-where. Tarnish the name of a desert region that had nothing but peace for ages? No, I respect that. I just left because I was curious about the world. I went to Hoenn and gained a love for the aquatic and tropical life. I went to a mountainous region and climbed to its crown. I went here and there and when I came back, nothing changed.
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I was still the same cannon. I learned new tricks; I learned to steel my patience and look for reasoning. I learned again how important family is and what it means to have values. I'm not a sage, nor will I ever be. I'm just a thug of a fighter who hates seeing her cry.
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Medana changed me. It was in the forests of an island region that I met her. I was wounded and the first thing she did was tend to my cuts. The woman could barely speak, but I listened anyway. I'm still the same cannon, but I won't fire that easily anymore. I used to be timid and scared all the damn time, but life has a funny way of trying to unlock us, and even funnier ways of succeeding.

[attr="class","mdhappsectit"]history

[attr="class","mdhapptext"]

My name is Eustace Arnold "Crocodile" Jones. I am thirty-two years of age and was born in Phenac City of Orre. I never witnessed our crime-laden history, but I've heard the elderly speak of it. The only problems is that they died before the stories could finish. Even then, all I had were videotapes and they up and vanished. All I remember are the names of the bad guys. I think...
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The videos were staged. Some actor dressed up as some kid with a machine for an arm and managed to overthrow a group of... No, I can't remember, nor do I really care. I was born in a world of peace, but my heart was on fire. I managed to stay home since I was six years old. Just after my birthday, my parents left me in the care of some of their friends- they were celebrating their 12th anniversary. Frederick and Yvonne Jones were their names, and as soon as the paper hit the coffee table, they became my foster parents and my new home was in Agate Village.
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Tybalt and Caroline Edwards had died just three days into their trip. The culprit was unknown, but people suspect the ship was compromised. Others say a pod of Wailord were escaping some Gyarados and smashed into the hull. To this day, I still don't know what happened. All I remember were my accidents leading up my departure from Orre.
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I changed when I read the paper. I began to lash out at anyone who talked about my parents. I was only halfway into my sixth year of life when Frederick gave me this scar on my face. He was a farmer, and his wife a fisherman and fishmongress. I was helping to harvest some corn and wheat when I heard something behind me. Frederick was startled by a Zigzagoon and he tripped, landing in front of me. Call it amazing, but the sickle totally missed me. I did get hurt, but only because I tried to catch him. The handle of the sickle hit me and my smile is all too crooked on one side.
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We started working away from each other since. I stopped caring about the pain after dinner that night, but the next few days hurt. I went to school in Gateon Port. I went to school, but I never learned anything. Kids and teachers were always saying the wrong things- I lasted until the end of my seventh year there. Thirteen years old and people were still giving me a reason to harm them.
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I said I was curious about the world, right? Well I was. I was now sixteen and curious if anyone else knew about my parents. I never left a note; I never packed all my things. I just swallowed my fear and became a stowaway. I became a thief and a thug in the region of Kanto, striking anyone who asked about "that ship from Orre". Most of the time, they weren't talking about the cruise ship, but I was just so full of rage. My life became a personal war. I gained cuts and scars and I made threats. After a full year, I heard the police were after me so I fled to Hoenn and remained there for about five years, living in a cave off the coast of Mossdeep City. I was still a thief, but I stole only small necessities. I'm the kid of two people who lived from the land. I had the means and a will to survive.
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Every now and then, I checked up on Orre through radio broadcasts and television stations. Things were largely the same, but my rage never died. I had violent dreams that I shan't describe. At around twenty-seven, and after having moved from cave to tree and bush, I fled for a new region. I don't remember her name, but she was diverse. There was an island in a river amidst a forest, and it was there I found a reason to go back home to Orre.
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Her name is Medana. She couldn't talk that well, but I understood what she said most the time. Hell, it took me three tries to realize she was saying her name. I was bleeding from a thorn bush and she immediately began to treat my wounds. Call it a fairytale, but her friends were Pokemon. She had one particular creature I had never seen before, and I do not know its name. All that I recall was how she spoke to them. She had a flute that she played so well, I always fell asleep after the first song. To put it short, she quelled my rage with simplicity and caring. I stopped throwing punches just to shut people up.
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I stayed on that island for three more years; adopting her as my sister and working with an organization that had residents from Orre. They didn't know who I was, but neither did they care. They were at a turf war with some radicals and offered me money if I worked for them. Funny how life works. I had a deadly crew by the time I tried to leave. My tastes gravitated towards dragons, much like Medana's. I said tried to leave, and I did. The only problem was that they stripped me of my Pokemon and shipped me back to Orre. My memories of mom and dad returned, and Medana was there to hold my hand when my smile reared its ugly face.
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The last words I remember hearing are, "the lights are back on". From what I know about Orre is only from word of mouth. I know about Cipher and Snagem, but nothing too detailed. I'm sitting here in bed wondering if the attack on the cruise ship was intentional. I'm wondering if it was compromised, or if someone ordered- No, no, no. That's impossible. They're long gone; dead and buried.
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I hope. Maybe it's just some damn kids playing a prank. I will admit, I am curious about what happened years ago. I've my own reasons for doing this. Revenge? Maybe. I'll figure myself out soon enough. Now that I think about it... The years may have been wrong, and I may be lying about this. Isn't that what a Crocodile does?