Franklynn
Chemist, Psychologist, Star Enthusiast
Account Info
Writer Info
Alias:⠀Yona
Age:⠀20
Writer Account:⠀@softaschet
Warnings
Content intended for mature audiences (18+). Writing will include the following:
bodily harm/horror
mental illness such as depression, anxiety, possibly some more as time goes on
vulgar language although rare
childhood trauma
and more.
Additional warnings will be listed when necessary.
Rules
WRITER
My character is NOT me. Whatever she says or does is not a reflection of me or my ideals.
No weird, pedophilic, misogynistic, folks allowed here. In or out of character, bro. There is no reason why me or my character would have to put up with that.
If you have an issue with me or anything I might’ve done to offend, feel free to talk to me about it.
Not really a rule, but if you feel I’ve forgotten or seem to be ignoring my RP with you, please let me know.
SHIPPING/DMs
Ships come with chemistry meaning if I find that your character clicks well with mine, then we can move our characters into something more intimate
I’ll write and plot with minor writers but shipping is out of the question.
I am not inclined to lewd. Unless you happen to be shipping with my character, don’t ask to do so.
By default if you pop in my DMs, I’m just gonna assume we’re talking writer to writer unless there is a context that suggests otherwise (i.e. a TL RP that leads to the DMs).
TL;DR: Don’t be weird or rude and don’t take my character too seriously. If there’s any confusion at all, just DM or @ me.
About
General Info
Name:⠀Franklynn (Frankie)
Age:⠀20
Birthday:⠀June 28
Species:⠀Human
Gender:⠀Female
Pronouns:⠀She/Her
Height:⠀5’7”
Hair Type:⠀Jet Black, Straight
Eye Color:⠀Green
College Major:⠀Psychology
College Minor:⠀Biochemistry
Personality Type:⠀INTJ-T
Likes:⠀Quiet places, Star-gazing
Dislikes:⠀The summer, Children, Her room being clean
Personality
Frankie keeps to herself more often than not. Though, she is not opposed to company in doses. The raven is very conversational, especially with topics that interest her such as the sciences she studies, space, and other random subjects. Generally, she is a very respectful person, however the closer you get to her, the more you’ll find that she’s not at all the type to hold her tongue.
While having those types of relatively lighthearted conversations are nice, that may be as far as you get when it comes to getting to know her personal character. Any questions about her past are almost instantly redirected, or simply cut short with an irritable claim that it’s none of your business. It’s only people that grew up with her, or happened to stumble upon a significant thing from said past that will ever know anything regarding it.
Interesting Facts
Although her real name is Franklynn, she does not like it, and therefore only ever goes by Frankie. Really, only her friend Katsuro can call her by it.
Frankie has a peculiar love for tomatoes in any form be it sauced, raw, juiced, etc.
She has a crippling addiction to caffeine she acknowledges but does not feel the need to fix.
She enjoys writing children’s stories. She’ll never publish them, though, since they have dark undertones.
That being said, she does not enjoy horror. At least, not the ones that rely on the gross morbidity of gore and jump scares. She prefers psychological horror that makes the audience think and question reality.
She enjoys strategy games like battleship and chess. Frankie likes being forced to think beyond the moment and consider the motives of her opponent.
She has natural talent for 1v1 fighting games.
Frankie makes money sometimes by hacking, though only few people will ever know this.
She commits arson to destress.
Her bullies would often cut it when it grew to a certain length. Despite them no longer being around, she still keeps her hair short.
Sometimes she’ll attempt to grow it out, but something will always happens where she feels the need to cut it again.
Background
Frankie was a silent child that grew up from very little. She lived in an orphanage, teeming with children of all ages looking for a path. She was not excluded from this. The raven clung to books in her elementary years, hoping her path would find her in her desolate state. As time passed and she grew, Frankie relied very little on human interaction despite being surrounded with several opportunities to engage. This quickly made her an outcast to all her peers. At some point, she became a target for harassment. There were minor, unoriginal attempts like stealing and vandalizing belongings. But sometimes things became physical. Those were the days the children were left unattended. Frankie was pushed into the forgotten areas of the orphanage. She was beat and spat on for reasons unbeknownst to her even in her young adulthood. Days came and went, and Frankie retreated further into her books. She no longer waited for her path to find her, but actively looked for it within each page.
One day, it happened again. She was dragged into the abandoned area of the orphanage. She numbly braced for another beating. Patiently, she waited for them to begin. At times like these, she used her need to know what happened next in her books to keep from slipping and losing consciousness. Although, maybe if she pretended to be dead they’d finally leave her alone.
Her thoughts came to an abrupt end as she heard the very painful impact of someone falling and groaning. Frankie squinted. Through her glasses she saw her bullies who had turned their attention elsewhere. Silently, she shifted to see a body face down on the ground. Their wrists were dislocated from the fall. A small puddle slowly grew larger from beneath their head.
“Is he dead,” and murmurs of the like came from her bullies. Could a fall like that could kill a person so easily? Unless they were considerably weak. Then it’d just be stupud to climb the fence in the first place. A few of the kids decided to step closer to the body. That is, until it finally moved. With a groan, it- he finally moved his head. With the kids spread out a bit more, she could get a better look at his features. Blood continued to ooze and drip from what seemed to be his eye. He covered it with his tattered hand.
“Ah, shit, bro. This hurts,” She heard him mutter. What an anticlimactic reaction to a wound to the eye.
“Hey, what are you doing here? Get lost,” One of the little girls in the group exclaimed.
“Right. Had a goal.” He moved his hand and lifted his head to show a long, rusty screw protruding out of his bleeding eye. By now Frankie had stood and seen the others were in a frozen shock. The boy stood as well. The sun blared against his back. All Frankie saw was the shadowed front of a young boy just a few years older than her with a wounded eye still bleeding profusely. It ran down his forearm, and dripped from his elbow. “I’m sure you guys have seen enough. Amirite?” Frankie’s snort was drowned out by the sounds of screams and the quickly scattering steps of sneakers on concrete.
A bloodied hand was held out to her. She stared at it. “Katsuro,” he spoke while using his free hand to swiftly snatch the screw out of his eye, “But I’d rather go by Kats. Or Your Hero if you’re feeling generous.” He smirked playfully, but Frankie scrunched her face in response. “Fair enough.” The young girl watched as his wound rapidly healed. She exhaled in awe.
Katsuro stared in confusion and came to a realization. “Oh! Yeah. That happens. Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. Getting stabbed in my eye wasn’t supposed to be a part of the plan, but I guess improv adds to authenticity.” He pauses a moment and squats down to her height, “You good?” She nods and smiles a very small and sweet smile.
This was a time Frankie remembered very vividly. It wasn’t the end of the bullying, but it was the beginning of her standing up for herself in small ways. By hanging around Katsuro, she’d pick up his mannerisms, and with time, Frankie would start speaking up more often than she ever had since first coming to the orphanage. Eventually, the girl not only fought back with words, but with her fists. She never became the most formidable opponent, but she could at least hold her own long enough to either escape, or finesse a win.
As time moved forward, she never lost her love for books. Through those, she developed a passion for chemistry, and most of all, psychology. The latter being what she’d go on to major in as she went to college with the hopes of becoming a therapist.
Art
Coming Soon