Frankie Dare

[Frankie]

Character Name: Frankie Dare
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Height: 5"9
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Green
Build: Thin and athletic
Clothing Style: Whatever is in the cupboard at that time, she has no money for fashion or trends.

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Personality: Frankie keeps to herself quite alot, she is actually quite smart, knowing the answer to nearlly every question that the teacher will ask them however she does not answer so readily. As a child her self esteem was lowered by bullying and taunting from the other children, mostly because of her name and because her mother was overweight. Anything they found 'different' about her, they teased her about. She could be quite pretty, as it is she hides behind her long black hair, she used to have many boys who watched her as she walked past, but she was oblivious to all that. For being blind to tohers, dampened the pain she felt inside. When she was twelve she started singing, at first it was only lullabies to her baby sister as her mother was always to lazy or preocupied with something else to look after her. But soon she began to sing to earn money. As her mother grew more ill, she grew more responsible.

Then when she was fourteen her mother died, father had died when she was only five. But her mother left with her a big responsibility, she had to look after her two year old sister as well as pay for everything. Even at sixteen she does the same, her two year old sister lives at home and even though she wants with all her heart to go to Rothud she barely earns enough to stay at the school she is in. Frankie is very secretive and so she has told nobody about her problem, even though she shows alot of stress, it would be noticable. But nobody cares about her, they never did. So why would they ask now? Once or twice every year her uncle calls on her to see if she is going ok. But this is her problem, and in this stage of life, everybody is a stranger.

That is not all about her, she has many complex emotions, love is one that she deprives herself from. Love is made to be broken, yet another pain she would have to deal with. So she takes all the luxeries of a normal teenage girl away from her. In her life, only her and her sister matter. But will that change?

History: Frankie was born on the 18th of May, unlike most children she was not born in a hospital, but in there own house. Her father did not believe in hospitals, ever since his own grandfather was mis-diagnosed. The role model in her life was always her father, he taught her to roller blade, fly kites, swim, read, write. All the thing essential for a little girl to learn in her childhood. Yet all her life she had been longing for some female tuition, her mother who suffered from a seveire case of obesity which was a medical condition could not help for very long before she tired and had to go lay back down. When she was 5 and her father died, it struck a massive blow in her life, for years she was depressed, ignoring the people who teased her at school, or crying alone. Shunning friendships away and taking to refuge in her house. At the age of 12 her mother's illness got worse, it was then Frankie decided she needed to take some responsibilities.

She sung lullabies to her sister to help her sleep, she cooked and cleaned the house. She made the lunches and went to school, acting as if it was all ok, as if nothing was wrong. But when their money problems started to go really bad Frankie knew she had to do something, normally children at her age are carefree, restless with chores and responsibility. But because of her mothers problem Frankie was much wiser than most her age. She started busking, not making much, but it was enough to get food and pay a small amount of the bills. This with school work and housework made her very stressed and tired. At fourteen her mother passed away, she didn't have time to mourn, by that time her two year old sister needed alot more attention, she needed clothes and to be taught things. It seemed as every month passed her workload just kept piling up. Her uncle started paying visits to them half way through her fourteenth year, he brought money and some food on his visits, but Frankie made him swear to tell nobody of her situation. For the child services were sure to come.

And so for another two yars until her current age she continued this, finally at the begginning of her sixteenth year she was old enough to begin doing gigs at local pubs, these brought in more money than busking, but still not enough. For years she has longed to go to Rothud Performing Arts School, but in her predicament she barely has enough money to continue attending Dendrum. Her sister is now a year from starting school herself, Frankie just tries not to think what will happen when that year comes. All she knows is .. she can't keep living like this.

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School: Dendrum. Though she wants an application for Rothud.


First Class: English
Second Class: Maths
Third Class: Music (Singing)
Fourth Class: History

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Sample RP:From The Requiem

-- They say that the worlds most complex situations and questions can be solved by answering smaller ones. Smaller ones making up the more complex ones. What is the sun? Where did we come from? And still, the smaller ones don't have answers, or don't have the right answers. So in turn, we have all the wrong questions to all the right answers. Scientists have been working for years on the substance that they call space. And yet, artists seemed to have captured it in all the same time, though there forms were not always written down on paper, or in english. Or in fact any language that the human mind could understand in the matter of seconds. Artists have a more refound way to capture each of the elements, each emotion can pose a million words. You see when an artist looks at a landscape, they do not see a tree, a lake and an island. They see life, they see a whole range of colours, they see birds, they find how the air moves around certain objects. They make the image that they paint seem even more real and even slight more surreal than the object they were looking at. You see, the good artist creates not out of what she can see with her eyes, but of what she can see with her mind and imagination. They have been given the gift of belief.

And so it was that as the woman sat with her back against one of the more shady trees on the outskirts of Amnos she pondered this, all the wonders of the earth, all the other realms and what could possibly be waiting out there for her. The girl who knew, even from a young age that she did not fit in here. Not with those in the water realm, for she always dreamt of the wind on her face, of the trees swaying in a gentle breeze. All her art seemed to rely on that one factor. Air. But it was forbidden to cross into that territory, forbidden to cross borders, many did it unanounced, but not women. They were treated as mere possesions, and possesions could not go amis of the one who possessed them. She bit her lip slightly, a drop of blood appeared and yet she mad eno haste to wipe it away, as was the poise of an artist, she was supposed to be creating a poem for one of the higher lords. But no inspiration came to her. It would be only three more hours before she would send the young lady who worked as her messanger to the man, and he would be left empty handed, she couldn't do that.

I feel it there, and yet i cannot reach it. She mused to herself, the girl was supposed to be ladylike, and she played the part pretty well, such as was the life of an artist, always pretending to be in connection with those around them when it was really the world they were thinking about, her mind always found itself flittering away to some unknown and undiscovered place, that was only in her dreams. She was often scolded for it, but she was classified a woman now, and had moved from her aunts place. It was strange, when she was young her mother had passed away, and it had been said her father had aswell. However, she found herself thinking, and coming to an almost certain conclusion that he was still alive .. somewhere, just not here. Aela could paint a picture of his face, thoug that was one of the paintings always burned, painting him always brought her to tears, because she could never complete the painting, all she remembered of him were his emerald green eyes and the was the corners of his mouth creased when he was amused. The song like sound of his laugh, a musical roundition. But she could never finish that painting. You may think that as insignificent, but for an artist not being able to complete a painting hurt, a spiritual wound more deep than any physical one. And her hurt was much more, as she could not complete a painting of her father.

The Silthouette of the moon does shine.
Reflecting gently across the waves.
And yet from afar do'st a shadow grow.

She only got three lines of the poem that was supposed to be littering down the page, when she stopped and crossed it out. No, that was not it, it was harder to find. Something there was not right. So why was it posing so hard to write a simple poem? That is the question that you may ask, and it was on her mind at that moment aswell. But her mind rebelled it had to be perfect, it had to be right. For what else did she have to live for? If not for books, painting and poetry then she would have no identity. And one must protect their identity at all costs. To her writing was not just putting words onto paper and praying to some unknown god that they turn out all right. To her writing was an art, a planned movement, like the swordsman moved his feet and arms in a fight so she must moved the words. To show people just what it is she sees and thinks about. To create a small window in which they can catch glimpses of the world she lives in, to make the words come alive.

The woman sighed, a motion that showed inner distress, even though those who observed her could not see why she would feel this distress. She placed the paper she wrote upon, onto the earth and stood up, moving to the waters edge she stared into it immense mass. It was a strange feat however to see that unlike most people in the water realm she stayed atleast three meters from the edge, another symbol of her differenece. Ever since her mothers death she had feared water, all knowledge of how to swim had evaporated, now she feared the substance and just wished it all to go away. It was so that she only moved to the Isalnds that were connected by bridges, and even then she mainly stayed on the one closest to the border.

Aela did not need to be reminded of her difference, and yet. Many people hastened to do so, she was not blind, though sometimes she may act it.


Yellow Submarine

[Frankie]

^{Done ;D}

[xx CariDee]

Thank you for joining, very well though out character. hope we can rp sometime.