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Originally, Franco's family might've carried high hopes for him. He was far from the ruling line and didn't need to worry about a place of power, but he was intelligent and quick-witted enough to incite hopes of being someone truly accomplished. But too many pressures, too much fighting, and too many expectations finally began to take a toll on him. When he finally got his first taste of freedom - he took it and didn't look back. Signing up with an unruly crew of mercenaries, Franco's price for such a lifestyle was integrating himself into the darker rungs of society and travelling wherever the next wind would carry him. His contact with his family during those days were minimal, but he never completely lost touch. Stefano's understanding of his own wanderlust cemented a bond between them, even if they were rarely compared. When Alessandra disappeared and the guards that served her, obligation finally steered him closer to his roots. The death of the Archduchess Esera and the darkness hounding the walls of Arx had him abandon his more selfish intents and travel to Arx. He's picked up a variety of skills along his unconventional path, but intends to use them now to help safeguard his family. Maybe some sense of obligation reawakened in him with the recent strife. The surge of excitement in the City isn't likely to have dissuaded him near as much as it has drawn him back in, though whether or not he'll forever be able to steer away more selfish intents may prove difficult.

Dirty blonde hair is cut rakishly short as if perpetually in a state of mild distress, with a few strands cutting across the tanned hue of his forehead. A thin red scar bisects his left eyebrow, angled towards one side and slicing near to his cheekbone. His stark grey-blue eyes have a penetrating presence, complete with a straight, thin nose, a squared jaw often darkened by an ever-present bit of stubble, and lips that too easily peel into a smirk. Carrying himself upon a strong soldier's frame with broad shoulders and limbs to match, it's often a bit of a surprise by how delicate he can be in certain situations. His hands and fingers are calloused, but his nails cut precisely.

The illusion of an endless ocean calms some people, but Franco was more prone to see the turbulance beneath the waves and how they shifted when storms were brewing. He's experienced too much to overly mince words, preferring to defuse bleak circumstances with a spark of humor and more outlandish things. It makes it unexpected when his truly blunt manner of speaking can carry a sharper edge to them. Like many of those from the Lycene, he's had his share of hedonistic fancies, but they're kept controlled, a bit of restraint amidst a main otherwise unreprentant and cold. Roiling emotions and passions kept subdued beneath an easygoing demeanor.