Francis Harlow Jameson was born on April 20, 1993 in the gloomy city of High Green, United Kingdom (Modern day he stands at around 5'9". His hair is a dark, curly mess. He weighs about 130lbs.) At the age of two, the Jamesons moved to Chicago, Illinois where Francis' mother and father would run a small bakery into the ground. Growing up on the streets, Francis grew to a lonely thief-hood at the age of 12. His parents were doped up, pill-junkies that he had left in an alley-way to rot as they had tried to strip everything that he had right off of his back. During his teenage years, Francis grew to no longer trust strangers. Time after time, people would just try to scam the kid of his 'Hobo Riches' that he conveniently stored in a coffee can. At age 15, 'Frankie' had made his first 'big break' robbing a convenient store with a switchblade. He was quick with his blade and even quicker with the money, going through hundreds of dollars nightly. As suspicions rose by those around, he gained more and more reputation people not just as a street-rat. But an artist. He was offered jobs by those from the darkest corners of Chiraq and during that time period, his 19th birthday rolled around, and he found himself on a plane to a meeting that made a stop in Japan. After landing in Western-Europe, Francis landed in Ireland, making his first international stop in his career. His ethic was a hit all over Western Europe, visiting places he had never seen before. Though, eventually his tour would end short when his plane had to make an emergency landing in the province of South Zagoria, right below the communist state of Russia. Sadly, this would be the last stop for the thief leading to an outbreak that would take over the entire Chenarussian Country by storm. Francis found himself trying to get out of the country, much like everyone else. Just to no avail, he'd find himself alone in what seemed to be hell. Nothing but an empty gun in hand, a cigarette, and his duffle bag. His first encounter with an infected would end up in what seemed to be an innocent woman's brain-matter covering his face. A woman whose name he had yet to find out had just put a bullet in what remained of her sibling, soon after the woman executed her sister. She raised the gun to her head and pulled the trigger-.. leaving the 26 year old running away in one direction, hiding from the hellish world he would have to overcome.