Post by Javert on Jun 23, 2009 23:41:50 GMT -5
[/font][/font][/size][/size]Introducing… FRANCES CRAWFORD !
Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself…[/blockquote][/center]
Name: Frances Lenora Agnes Crawford
Nicknames: Fran, Franny, Lenny, Red, Sis, Scarlet
Age: 16
Gender: female
Where you stand?: newbie to the Floaters
Play by: Rachel Hurd-Wood
Nicknames: Fran, Franny, Lenny, Red, Sis, Scarlet
Age: 16
Gender: female
Where you stand?: newbie to the Floaters
Play by: Rachel Hurd-Wood
I'm a man of wealth and taste...
Appearance: Fran is quite happily rooted in the space between 'revoltingly unattractive' and 'abnormally beautiful'; there is nothing remarkable about her features, but nothing appalling, either. She is average, but certainly not plain: the blazing chromacity of eyes and hair prevent such an adjective from applying. Her hair, inherited from her beloved mother, is bright red, like gleaming copper, and is thick and stubborn and waves past her shoulders. Not one to fuss over her appearance, Fran usually wears it down, but if it hinders her eyesight whilst gardening she'll nimbly plait it into a braid. Framed by this hair is a heart-shaped, pale face sprinkled with freckles across the bridge of a petite, tip-tilted nose, and over broad cheekbones. Her wide mouth has lips that naturally turn up at the corners to ensure her a permanent smile, and eyes that tend to shift between pale blue and light grey and sparkle with life.
Unlike two of her elder sisters, who take after their tall, scarecrow-like father, Fran is built like her mother and her other sisters--average height, and not quite plump, but soft and rounded, wide-hipped and long-torsoed, and certainly not a twig. Her hands are long-fingered and deceptively elegant looking, but have a constant layer of dirt beneath her fingernails that she is inordinately proud of: she claims that it brands her as a frequent gardener. Despite her callused hands, there is not a sharp line or angle anywhere about Fran's person, reflecting the fluffy, cloud-like consistency of her personality.
Personality: Personality, in fact, is something that Fran is quite wealthy in. Saddled with a homely name, she decided long ago that she would be anything but boring. Fran is wholeheartedly, deeply, madly, and truly in love with life and everything that it has to offer, and that passion radiates throughout her entire being. Vivacious and brimming with energy, functioning on scant hours of sleep each night to fit more hours of precious time into her days. There is rarely anything but a smile upon her face, and her abundant, full-throated laughter often proves to be contagious. Despite being fond of talking –she will engage anyone nearby in conversation, utilizing not only her vocal chords but her hands and eyebrows and very being–, she is an excellent listener, focusing intently on the speaker with widened eyes, arched brows, leaning slightly forward to hear and comprehend each word. She is a nurturing, compassionate sort, and if someone comes to her and tells her of their woes, she may be unable to offer sound advice, but she will cry with them and hug them until their bones break and offer to bake them something. There is certainly a naivety about her love for –no, obsession with– life, a degree of ignorant innocence; it has been assumed that Fran does not have a mean bone, a jealous bone, a prideful bone in her body. The Seven Deadly Sins sneer and snicker and prod at her, and Fran hugs them and wishes them a pleasant evening. (Note: Fran LOVES hugs.)
Yet kindness and charm and exuberance do not guarantee perfection. Fran, despite being radiantly bright in personality, is not dazzlingly bright in intelligence--she is a daydreamer born and bred, and in classes she tends to doodle hearts and flowers and get rebuked for whispering to her neighbors. That is not to imply that she is a 'dumb blonde', for she is neither dumb nor blonde--if she wants to learn something, she will, blessed (or cursed) with a good memory and seemingly endless patience. She is easily swayed by the opinions of others so long as they do not contradict her ever-steadfast moral compass. In her desire to befriend the world, she often latches onto the people who loath her most--even those who may wish her harm. If someone does hurt her, whether mentally or emotionally or even physically, she will forgive them and stay close to them, convinced that it was her fault and that it is her duty to convert them from bad seed to blooming bud. That, perhaps, is her greatest flaw: the inability to recognize danger, or to recognize that she is unwanted or unwelcomed.
And then... Far beneath everything, buried deep within her, is also a profound, crippling sadness that wakes her up in the middle of the night, shaking and muttering and sobbing. Such a large capacity for love and joy also gives her a great chasm with room for self-doubt, even self-loathing, raw fear, and sorrow. She struggles to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, thinking that she can right all wrongs, and such a fragile girl can only handle so much.
Something happened to her--something that sent this poor creature into the realms of mental instability--but her smile will never falter in public to allow anyone to know.
((BAH THIS SUCKS. just know that she is a happy camper who loves everyone and is slightly insane due to a big tragedy in her life. poor franarama.))
Likes: gardening
[/u], talking, hugs, listening, boys (kind ones; the most handsome ones always seem to be the cruelest), people with a good sense of humor, bright colors, horse-back riding, parasols, frogs, embroidery, swimming, painting, love stories, being outdoors, freedom, going barefoot, new friends, childrenUnlike two of her elder sisters, who take after their tall, scarecrow-like father, Fran is built like her mother and her other sisters--average height, and not quite plump, but soft and rounded, wide-hipped and long-torsoed, and certainly not a twig. Her hands are long-fingered and deceptively elegant looking, but have a constant layer of dirt beneath her fingernails that she is inordinately proud of: she claims that it brands her as a frequent gardener. Despite her callused hands, there is not a sharp line or angle anywhere about Fran's person, reflecting the fluffy, cloud-like consistency of her personality.
Personality: Personality, in fact, is something that Fran is quite wealthy in. Saddled with a homely name, she decided long ago that she would be anything but boring. Fran is wholeheartedly, deeply, madly, and truly in love with life and everything that it has to offer, and that passion radiates throughout her entire being. Vivacious and brimming with energy, functioning on scant hours of sleep each night to fit more hours of precious time into her days. There is rarely anything but a smile upon her face, and her abundant, full-throated laughter often proves to be contagious. Despite being fond of talking –she will engage anyone nearby in conversation, utilizing not only her vocal chords but her hands and eyebrows and very being–, she is an excellent listener, focusing intently on the speaker with widened eyes, arched brows, leaning slightly forward to hear and comprehend each word. She is a nurturing, compassionate sort, and if someone comes to her and tells her of their woes, she may be unable to offer sound advice, but she will cry with them and hug them until their bones break and offer to bake them something. There is certainly a naivety about her love for –no, obsession with– life, a degree of ignorant innocence; it has been assumed that Fran does not have a mean bone, a jealous bone, a prideful bone in her body. The Seven Deadly Sins sneer and snicker and prod at her, and Fran hugs them and wishes them a pleasant evening. (Note: Fran LOVES hugs.)
Yet kindness and charm and exuberance do not guarantee perfection. Fran, despite being radiantly bright in personality, is not dazzlingly bright in intelligence--she is a daydreamer born and bred, and in classes she tends to doodle hearts and flowers and get rebuked for whispering to her neighbors. That is not to imply that she is a 'dumb blonde', for she is neither dumb nor blonde--if she wants to learn something, she will, blessed (or cursed) with a good memory and seemingly endless patience. She is easily swayed by the opinions of others so long as they do not contradict her ever-steadfast moral compass. In her desire to befriend the world, she often latches onto the people who loath her most--even those who may wish her harm. If someone does hurt her, whether mentally or emotionally or even physically, she will forgive them and stay close to them, convinced that it was her fault and that it is her duty to convert them from bad seed to blooming bud. That, perhaps, is her greatest flaw: the inability to recognize danger, or to recognize that she is unwanted or unwelcomed.
And then... Far beneath everything, buried deep within her, is also a profound, crippling sadness that wakes her up in the middle of the night, shaking and muttering and sobbing. Such a large capacity for love and joy also gives her a great chasm with room for self-doubt, even self-loathing, raw fear, and sorrow. She struggles to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, thinking that she can right all wrongs, and such a fragile girl can only handle so much.
Something happened to her--something that sent this poor creature into the realms of mental instability--but her smile will never falter in public to allow anyone to know.
((BAH THIS SUCKS. just know that she is a happy camper who loves everyone and is slightly insane due to a big tragedy in her life. poor franarama.))
Likes: gardening
Dislikes: anything listed in “fears”, selfish people, shoes that are too small, weeds, croquet, her constant blushing and being embarrassed, sleeping, laziness
Dreams: Frances suddenly and unexplainably became a voracious gardener at the age of fourteen. Nearly half of her days are spent outside, crouching in the dirt, tenderly attending to her beloved flowers and coaxing them to life seemingly with her own exuberance. She dreams of becoming a florist and bringing splashes of color to the depressing sphere that is the world.
Fears: death, violence, disease, suffering, frost killing her flowers, heights, small spaces, awkward silences (and nothing to fill them with!), someone discovering that perhaps she isn't the saint she tries so hard to be
[/center]
I've been around for a long, long year...
History: Fran was born into a large family, already having four elder sisters and receiving a brother three years after her own birth. The Crawfords were not necessarily wealthy, living in a modest manor in the country, yet her father’s brother was a rich man, and he was happy to assist them. (It was he who paid for Fran’s initial transfer to Florence’s.) Fran was not precisely a tomboy as a child, instead traversing through the countryside, chasing all manner of fauna (amphibians included), and jumping in mud puddles while wearing her laciest white gowns. She did, however, engage in proper ladylike activities, and did not often mind; she is easily intrigued and considers little unbearably boring or tedious (except for blasted croquet!).
She studied under the watchful eyes of a governess until her sixteenth birthday. Then, her beloved uncle offered her her present– an application to Florence’s Academy for the Young. Fran hesitated, considered, and finally agreed. Now, however, with her first day quickly approaching, her quotidian confidence is wavering–
Because something unspeakable is tethering her to the familiar.
((I copied and pasted that right from the old app. I could write something better and more detailed but NO ONE CARES! =D))
Family: Parents: Agnes and Samuel Crawford
Sisters, from oldest to youngest: Phoebe Stevens, 26; Olivia Hornstein and Octavia Brightman, 23; Jane (Jenny) Crawford, 18
Brother: Edmund Crawford, 13
Pets: an old, huge sheepdog; an old, small pony named Duchess; several cats that run around and terrorize poor Duchess
Anything you'd like to add?
I'm sad that she's back at the start again. ): also, NEVER! EVER! ASK! HER! TO SING! it's really, really horrible and she knows it. so much for snow white.
She studied under the watchful eyes of a governess until her sixteenth birthday. Then, her beloved uncle offered her her present– an application to Florence’s Academy for the Young. Fran hesitated, considered, and finally agreed. Now, however, with her first day quickly approaching, her quotidian confidence is wavering–
Because something unspeakable is tethering her to the familiar.
((I copied and pasted that right from the old app. I could write something better and more detailed but NO ONE CARES! =D))
Family: Parents: Agnes and Samuel Crawford
Sisters, from oldest to youngest: Phoebe Stevens, 26; Olivia Hornstein and Octavia Brightman, 23; Jane (Jenny) Crawford, 18
Brother: Edmund Crawford, 13
Pets: an old, huge sheepdog; an old, small pony named Duchess; several cats that run around and terrorize poor Duchess
Anything you'd like to add?
I'm sad that she's back at the start again. ): also, NEVER! EVER! ASK! HER! TO SING! it's really, really horrible and she knows it. so much for snow white.
Hope you guess my name...
Your name:Javert
Parent of which characters: none yet. ohmygoodness. that's depressing. ): I used to be mommy to celeste, llewelyn, frances, opium, hoku, and mina. yay.
Parent of which characters: none yet. ohmygoodness. that's depressing. ): I used to be mommy to celeste, llewelyn, frances, opium, hoku, and mina. yay.
But what's puzzling you is the nature of my game...
(c) Poe & Realms of Fantasia
Lyrics (c) Guns N' Roses
Do not steal.
It's bad.
