#𓊔﹒𓌹 𓂃 𓌺 meta.

[stabyouth]

» from @junksaw​​​ ☏ how does frank view himself and the others in the context of the legion as a group? does he think one of them is a weak link, or is he generally proud of them all and their teamwork? 

frank views his ( ! ) legion as the obvious; a (somewhat) unwavering collective. they work with one another as two hands and two feet do, though that doesn’t mean that all limbs & extremities are created equal; we all have our good arm, & we all have our aches and our pains. and, sometimes, our fingers turn blue and go numb, pins and needles, and they need a little waking up.

frank sees julie as his complete & total equal, at least until their inevitable falling out. they’re twin flames, partners in crime, bonnie and clyde, block and tackle. he sees himself in her as much as she sees herself in him, though this duality is often viewed through a clouded mirror– they aren’t as symbiotic as frank would like to think.

next is joey, rife with impulse, much like frank is. thus, he’s emphatically fun to cause some mayhem with, especially since the guy seems to be down for anything. the two of them might’ve made out once (even ‘made out’ is a stretch; they were both wasted & frank wanted to see what it’d feel like to kiss him, and so he did. simple as that. it wasn’t chaste, but it was brief enough that there wasn’t any tongue involved) during an episodic pause between frank & julie’s blooming relationship circa spring break of junior year〈 smell of pine needles & firewood burning, sparks, embers against the black night filled to the brim with a saucer of stars  – their last camping trip 〉... after that, joey seemed to have what frank would describe as a lucid moment. they didn’t talk for a few days, and then after they’d silently decided it’d never happened. that memory still provokes some hiccups in their relationship.

last is the girl who frank might call a ‘weak link’ only under strenuous circumstance, and that is of course little susie. frank sees her as a younger sister that he’ll occasionally find himself annoyed with, especially if she wavers in her convictions. she’s not frail / fragile, and frank is more than happy to count her amongst his ranks, but sometimes she can act a little soft. her conscience, bound by the tethers of some societal view of ‘goodness’, is hard to wash away no matter how hard he tries. sometimes, when he’s really pissed, he’ll wonder why julie is so close to her in the first place. 

[stabyouth]

𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙻𝙰 ‘𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙸𝙴’ 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙴 𝚅𝙻𝙰𝚂𝙾𝚅, née 𝙻𝙴𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙲.   a study in the cyclical blonde, the mother of the bastard son of a bastard son, franklin p. morrison [warnings apply, please mind the tags below].

angie is born in montréal on september 19th, 1957. with long flaxen hair, a doll-like complexion, and the quiet, beautifully soulful aura of a portrait, she towers above most of her classmates at a willowy five feet and nine inches. she loves french soap operas and knitting, & flowery poetry, jesus and the beatles (& she has the biggest crush on ringo; she keeps a folded magazine clipping of him in her makeup compact until she feels she’s too old for something so girlish). 

at sixteen she hitchhikes away from a home life of alcoholism & violent turmoil, drifting from passenger seat to passenger seat, edging further and further out west until she eventually secures herself a job as a busgirl at a road-stop diner in winnipeg. there, she rents an apartment with two waitresses she never warms up to. angie was never good at getting along with girls her age.

at eighteen, she meets and begins a tumultuous relationship with restaurant regular & known town grifter roman vlasov. her roommates tell her he’s bad news, and of course they’re right, but she’ll never listen. he makes her feel pretty, and he makes her feel loved. they listen to the beatles and he lets her read him poetry. he even gives writing it a crack, and they laugh when he rhymes bananas with bandannas. they watch soap operas and she knits him a scarf for christmas. they go to church on sundays and he doesn't complain. he doesn’t look a thing like ringo and he always tastes like vodka. they elope the same year they meet. 

when she’s nineteen, roman says it’s her fault she’s pregnant. he says she “should’ve kept her legs shut”, & he refuses to believe it’s his. it’s just the booze whispering in his ear and making him paranoid (and he really did used to be sweet, and he really did used to be kind. but maybe frued was right, and maybe we all marry our parents). that’s what she tells herself, until one night he beats her, & once is enough. her mascara’s running and she’s got two black eyes, and she’s on the run again, because she’s scared, she can’t stop crying, and she’s only nineteen & this is one of the few things she knows how to do. 

no roman, no job, no place to stay. she’s twenty, five months pregnant, and she’s still heading west. angie is hitchhiking through moose jaw into saskatoon when she meets patrick daniels. he seemingly falls for her soft blonde hair and doe eyes & sets her up in an apartment in his home city of calgary, with an innocuous catch. as soon as her baby is old enough to heat up a can of beans for himself on the stove (a generous four or five), she’ll work for him. fair trade, right? 'growing city like this one will chew a pretty girl like you right up and spit her out like gum on the sidewalk', he says. so she grows to depend on him– &, slowly, he brings dope into the mix to seal the deal. he’s done this before. it works like a charm. 

[stabyouth]

» from anonymous​ ☏ hobbies that one wouldn't expect of frank, if any?

frank has a few hobbies outside of his criminal escapades, drinking, smoking & drug use, and his impulsive habit of breaking into stranger’s cars to take them on joyrides. one would hesitate to call them leisure pursuits, as he isn’t exactly leisurely with how he goes about them (rather violently & sporadically, as he does with everything in his life). he’s not secretive about his hobbies, nor is he particularly shy, but it isn’t as if he’ll forsake his ‘public image’ for the sake of the following. if asked about his pastimes, he’ll likely act carefully disinterested in the face of anything that isn’t a party or some sort of petty act of defiance (it’s clear, thus, to the careful observer, that he tries too hard).

- he’s keen on collecting, though this is more indicative of his leanings toward minor kleptomania than anything. he has a pattern of going into gift shops & mall kiosks and leaving with a small button, a key chain with his name on it, a beaded bracelet or a miniature license plate. he keeps these items in a shoebox underneath his bed, alongside other sentimental trinkets, including a photo of his mother, a polaroid of him and his foster sister jessica, the bloody mask he’d worn the night of the cleaner’s death, julie’s hunting knife, and a couple of miscellaneously shiny bottle caps & beer tabs (this ritual started when frank was thirteen- he had gone to a museum in calgary with jessica, and they’d found a key chain in the shape of a little cowboy hat at the gift shop with his name on it. she’d shoved it in his backpack and told him to scram before the old woman attending the counter could witness his nervous cadence). legally, however, he’ll collect old records, casettes & tapes, mostly of obscure, tasteless horror films and underground eighties metal bands nobody has ever heard of. 

- he sings. well, actually. as a child, he’d been in his church’s choir, and as such, he has a handle on the basics. he’s been known to drunkenly break in song with his legion on trips up the mountain, blasting his mixtape to the loudest degree (music that is decidedly not church hymns, nor a baseline complimentary to his nearly angelic, christ-servient tone, but it’s entertaining and quite pretty, nonetheless). 

- he plays cards, mainly poker & écarté. he excels at both, and can hold his own in blackjack and most other casino games; he would play against the kids in his foster homes, with stakes either being their desert or whatever spare change they had lingering in their pockets. when he isn’t fiddling with a joint, cigarette, knife or lighter, you’ll see him absently shuffling a deck of cards, though the lack of joint & cigarette is occasional, and this was a habit he mostly indulged in during middle & high school, where the flaunting of a lighter or a switchblade was frowned upon and nearly caused him to face suspension on multiple occasions.

[stabyouth]

What's his favorite food, color, and animal

buffalo chicken poutine / dusky red / rottweilers !