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Description

BASIC INFORMATION
Name:Franklin
Nickname[s]: Frankie [preferred name, goes by this]
Gender: Male
Breed: Maine Coone x Manx
Actual Age: 14 years
Physical Age: 4 years
Entered Trials: Approx 1 1/2 years old
Entered Stasis: Approx. 2 years old
Birth Season: Late Winter
Soul Class: ???
Soul Bond: ???

Statistics

Intellect: ••••
Charisma: ••
Stamina: •••••••
Strength: •••••
Speed: ••

In Depth:
Intellect [4]: Frankie is not the most intelligent feline, though what he does have he uses as best he can. His intelligence lies most in his knack for knowing how to read other cats. He is not street smart, nor is he book smart, but he knows when you're feeling down and how to cheer you up, when you need space, or when you just need a good story spun off the top of some massive cottonball of a cat's head.

Charisma [2]: A charismatic cat, Frankie is not. The most he could lead you to is a brick wall. He's not a leader in any sense of the word, but he's pretty okay with that. He's a horrible liar, has no poker face, and really, even convincing you to walk into that brick wall is out of his league. Some cats could make drowning in a pool of thick, black, sticky tar sound downright appealing, but if Frankie tried, he'd make it sound worse than it already would be.

Stamina [7]: For all the bulk he has to carry around, Frankie is a pretty tough cat. Not in the sense that he's a fighter, but in the sense that it takes a long time to wear him down to where he can no longer continue to go on anymore. He's got pretty good emotional and physical endurance and though he probably has wanted to from time to time, he does not fall to the ground and stop until he feels that he, and anyone he happens to be with, is safe. Not brave, but determined, if there was any cat that would turn around to dig you out of burning rubble and still be able to carry you to safety, it'd be Frankie. For him, there's no rest until there's no choice.

Strength [5]: Fighting is easy, when you have bulk and you know how to throw it around. Though this gentle giant does not like to fight, he can be pretty good at it if he tries. Sure, it's probably just because he can knock the air from your lungs or sende your head spinning pretty quickly with one well-aimed smack of those massive paws, but he'll get better with time. However, strength is not just about fighting. Frankie's good for heavy lifting, tough and menial labor, and keeping his chin up when things get tough.

Speed [2]: Ah, Frankie's biggest weakness: speed. He's not very good at moving fast. He's a little top-heavy and toppled over a lot as a much younger kitten when he was just learning to walk and run, and it's just not easy to move all that weight quickly, strength or otherwise. He is not a sprinter, if it's easier to phrase it that way. More of an endurance racer; the cat you stick in a long race so that, even if he's not as fast as his opponents, he'll still at least come in at the top three because everyone else burnt out early on.

APPEARANCE
Book Description: A large, thick-pelted tom with a dark marbled tabby pelt, no tail, and brown eyes.
Fur: Brown
Markings: Dark brown marbled stripes, a pale muzzle, eye spots, ear spots, toes, throat, and belly
Eyes:
Brown
Scars:----
Accessories:---
Etc. Very thick pelt, kind of chubby, massive paws, no tail whatsoever

PERSONALITY
Perceptive|Caring|Hard-Working|Nervous|Honest|Predictable

Perceptive: having or showing keenness of insight, understanding, or intuition

Frankie can catch on pretty quickly to how others are feeling, even if they're trying to hide it. He's especially good on picking up on body language-everyone has a tell or two when they're trying to hide something, and Frankie-while not being an expert-is pretty skilled on picking them out. Though it is really nice to know if someone's lying to you, it can also be a bit stressful, because then it's hard to know who to trust. Why are they lying? What's so bad that they need to keep secrets? He tries to work with it, but it does fray his nerves a bit. Frankie is a pretty understanding cat, most of the time. He just so happens to be a bit high-strung and his imagination tends to get the better of him every so often.

Caring: displaying kindness and concern for others

Frankie has a big heart. A huge heart, really. Full of empathy and sympathy and all of that good stuff. Is it easily exploited? Maybe. Does that stop him from being kind to everyone he meets? Not really, though it should. There's nothing wrong with having a bit of discretion when it comes to lending a helping hand, but Frankie would do just about anything he could if he felt like someone could use his help and it's within his power to do so. At the same time, he can care a little more than he should, and so he can get a bit more emotionally invested than is sometimes necessary. When he can't help, he feels terrible. He's a nice, young cat. He wants you to know that, and he'll do all he can to show it, in whatever way he can. If all you need is silent support, he's the shoulder to cry or lean on. If you need a distraction, he can whip one up for you. Do you need mindless chatter? He can do that. He'll give you what you want or need if he feels like it'll make you feel better.

Hard-Working: tending to work with energy and commitment; diligent

Sweet Frankie doesn't give up easily. Yes, he's nervous, but he tries to work past it. When he is given a job, Frankie gets it done and he doesn't stop until he feels like it's been done well. He is committed to a job well done. This current goal is no different. Of course it isn't-this is something to not be taken lightly-but Frankie is so terribly determined, it has the potential to keep him up at night, trying to find something he doesn't know how to find, and trying to find a way to complete tasks that may reside far outside of his skill set. He has the potential to get stuck in a rut, and it's not hard to believe that someday, someone may have to force him to sit down and rest because Frankie would probably work himself to the bone if left to his own devices.

Nervous: easily agitated or alarmed; tending to be anxious; highly strung

To be frank, Frankie has zero chill. He is easily frightened, and a lot of things set him on edge much easier than they would with other cats. He jumps at noises that may or not not be there, and can be easily spooked by his own shadow. His mind has a habit of escaping from him and running with ideas until they are far-fetched. Sometimes it makes it hard to trust others, because unless they are honest with their intentions, Frankie doesn't know if they don't mean him harm. He often looks for reassurance to make sure those around him still like him. He's just anxious. He doesn't know where it came from, or how to stop it, but he hopes daily for someone who is much steadier in mind and calmer to help him out. Maybe that's what he's missing with his other half.

Honest: free of deceit and untruthfulness; sincere

Frankie does not like to lie. He does not like to keep secrets. He feels like he will be easier to trust if he is open with everything. Sometimes, it may come off like he has no filter, and he apologizes for it often, because he sometimes can say things that should probably be kept behind closed lips. He tries to make sure any companions of his know how he feels about them, and if you need to know what someone thinks of you or something you've done, you should probably ask Frankie. He'll let it slip. This may be why cats keep their deeper secrets from him. He's not good at keeping them. On the bright side, you always know where you stand with Frankie.

Predictable: ------

As hard as he might try to not be, poor Frankie is a cat that follows very easily predicted paths of behavior. He sticks to a routine the best be can, even when things don't go to plan. He likes to eat the same foods at the same times, he reacts the same way to things every time-you can always count on Frankie to leap into a fight to try and protect those he cares about no matter what, and you can always count on him to keep going even when he's tired-and nothing he does every really mixes things up. He actually seems to get a little bit frustrated when things don't happen they way he's used to, though it's gotten a lot better since his world was thrown head over heels into something completely different than anything he'd ever experienced before. Still, Frankie likes things a certain way, and he does things a certain way, and that's just how he is.

BACKSTORY
Mother: Alyson [deceased]
Father: Ty [deceased]
Brother[s]: Emerson
Sister[s]: Marissa [Deceased]

History:

With the state the world was in, bringing a litter of kittens into the world might not have been the smartest idea, but Alyson was determined, despite Ty's insistance that maybe-just maybe- they didn't live in the best environment for family life, and so eventually three little kittens came into the world. Franklin was quite possibly the largest of the three, a round and roly-poly sort of kitten from the very beginning, a shape accentuated by his complete and utter lack of a tail, but Emerson wasn't close behind. The two of them in fact, looked like perfectly healthy little ones, the strong sort that had a higher chance of survival. This was a hopeful thing, a reason to keep going, but the third kitten didn't fare quite so well. Frankie, if you ask him, doesn't remember his sister. At time, in the thick of it all, he may even forget her a little bit, but it's not truly his fault she died so young Marissa was a bit smaller, a bit more frail, than the other two kittens...but there was still a chance, as far as her parents were concerned. And even though Alyson had insisted on startting a family, she wasn't completely idealistic. The world was obviously in shambles, things were constantly falling apart, and danger practically lurked at every corner. It was impossible to ignore, and so the little family of five was constantly on the move.

Some of Frankie's earliest memories are of being carried around by either his mother or father, his little legs that were too small to keep up dangling limply in the air.

He was the first to be able to walk, though it was Emerson who was the first to be allowed to do so for long periods of time because while Frankie could walk for what seemed like ages for a kitten, he couldn't do it very fast, and Emerson was a bit better at keeping up the pace. Marissa was almost always carried. He kind of remembers that much. Their parents took turns carrying the little ones, never settling down for very long at all. Ty had already been a bit on the worried side-it was his alertness that had gotten him that far in life-but it was like it had amplified tenfold after the arrival of the kittens. No place was every completely safe enough. No place had enough food, enough water, enough shelter from the elements and strange cats who might mean them harm, and as long as they remained moving targets, they'd be much harder to hit.

Frankie doesn't ever remember having a stable home, and even now the idea of staying in one place feels foreign.

It wasn't exactly much of a shock to either parents when they lost Marissa. The kitten had been fading slowly over time, always being beaten out by bigger, stronger siblings who had no clue they were doing their sister harm, but the end came on rather suddenly. One moment, she'd been okay. The next, she'd been a bit sick and then it was as if Alyson and Ty had blinked and she was just gone. Sadly, with two other thriving kittens around, there wasn't much time to grieve. They had to pull themselves together and get moving, or else there'd be far more to worry about that a single dead kitten.

As soon as it could be done, both Em and Frankie were given lessons by their parents in the basics of survival. Hunting, tracking, fighting...you name it, they had a crash course in it. Was it a perfect education? Far from it, but they family was doing the best they could given the circumstances. Frankllin didn't turn out to be the most impressive of hunters or scavengers, but once he figured out how to use his bulk to his advantage, fighting and defense just clicked. The sight took some weight off of his parents' shoulders. Together, their children would be fine and if they were ever separated, there was a high chance both of them would be able to get by okay. They'd just either be a little hungrier or a little more beat up.

Nights were the one time the family didn't move much. They could see just fine in the dark, but the kittens would get tired around sunset, and it was too hard to drag them around...and after a certain point, they were just too heavy to carry. So Alyson took to storytelling instead of traveling by night, pulling her little ones as close as she could and telling them stories. The most common subject was a place far better than one either kitten had ever known, and Frankie would often fall asleep with images of sunshiney worlds dancing about behind his eyes, though sometimes they heard stories about the stars, or cats with magic powers. Alyson tried to keep things varied, though it always strayed back to the idea of a place where no one was ever hungry, scared, or sick. Sadly, she didn't get to see that world become a reality (but Frankie's going to see it for her. He has to now.)

Sick, dying, and fully aware of it, Alyson left her children and her mate, not wanting any of them to bear witness to what was happening to her. The three kept up with their daily travels, though it didn't quite feel the same. Ty didn't talk much and the nights now were far quieter, because no one could tell a story quite like Alyson could. None of them could do her justice, so none of them tried. This went on fior a while, the three of them silently walking and scavenging and trying to survive. That was it. Nothing more. Emerson and Frankie talked more amongst each other than they did to their father, the two young cats rarely ever seen all that far apart from each nother. They were a year old in age when Ty finally stopped, pulled them aside, and told them that they needed to stick together now more than ever before. Frankie, of course, wanted to know why. Was something happening? Were they in more danger? Was Ty going to do the same thing to them their mother had?

No. He wasn't dying, but they were old enough to be on their own now, and Ty was tired. It was time they started off on their own lives, time that he took care of himself again. So off the two went. As long as they had each other, Frankie insisted, they would be okay. They had their skills, complimentary to each other, and they had the well-wishes of their father. They had their mother watching over them, her stories ringing loud and clear in their heads. Nothing could stop them, not when they'd made it that far. And nothing did, until the pair of them found something to stop them in their tracks.

Cats.

More cats in one place than they had ever seen before, simply because they'd been a small, nomadic family unti their entire lives. And, on top of that, A god.

Strangers. A literaly god. Mentions of a place they had only heard about in their mother's stories. Frankie, his heart beating it's way out of his chest and into his throat, agreed. There was no way he wasn't going to try and get to Paradise. He'd see it for his mother, trials be damned. He wasn't scared of them. He wasn't scared of Ordeel. As long as he had a little bit of hope and Emerson by his side, it was going to be okay.

He hadn't expected a dark, eerily quiet forest, or having to work with cats who weren't his sibling, who didn't know him like Emerson did. He hadn't expected the beasts that came for them, or any of the troubles that haunted them. but he had been right when he'd told Emerson they'd be fine as long as they stuck together. Frankie had the brawn to get them through some obstacles and when that inevietably failed, there was Emerson's brains to solve the puzzles Frankie's strength couldn't handle. They were quite the pair and while the first trial was exhausting, by the end of it, Frankie was honestly feeling rather confident. That was until they reached the gate, and something tried to tear his only remaining family member right out from under his paws. The other cats ran for the gate; Frankie ran for Emerson. Frankie called for help, demanded they do something, begged those who remained to do anything they could so that he would not be left alone. The rest of it's all a bit of a blur.

Frankie doesn't remember much. All he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, and all he could see was Emerson being taken from him.

Something happened-he wasn't and still isn't sure what-but they made it. Out of one trial and into the next, though the group was far too small to be any sort of successful. Frankie and Emerson had gotten through a lot together, but even with one other cat, there was no way they could survive whatever was planned for them now. Any earned bravado and confidence Frankie had gained had swiftly fled him. He was tired. So was Em. When the only other cat that had made it through left them, all he could do was lay down beside Emerson and try to rest. They were simply too weak to go on, and Em was wounded...and even if he didn't want to admit it, Frankie thought they might have to give up.

Alyson would have been proud. He had to tell himself that. She'd be so proud that they'd made it this far.

Sleep didn't come easy, but it did come. But when he awoke, it wasn't the heat of the colisuem and it's horrid, rancid smell that met Frankie. It was a jungle. Quiet, like the forest, but pecefully so. It didn't make sense, but Frankie wasn't complaining. Maybe he was simply dead, and this was what that got them-and if so, he was going to find Emerson first thing, because he had woken up completely alone for the first time in his life, and then he was going to find his mother, and they were going to be happy again. And if he found his father in the process, that would be okay, too. But maybe it was just a dream. How was he supposed to know the difference?

He still doesn't, but as time goes on, he's less and less sure that this is just the afterlife.

But he still doesn't have the proof that he isn't dead, so who knows, really?

What was your character's stance about Paradise before the gate, and how has their opinion changed?

Frankie was hopeful, because when the world is as messed up and dangerous as it was, hope is something to hold onto, but at the same time, he was always so very, very afraid that there was nothing better out there, that everything was just one big fairy told told to kittens by their parents so they could sleep well at night. There was always a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that there was no real paradise, that the world was the way it was....still, he tried to be strong. He wanted to believe in it, but he also wasn't going to bend over backwards to search for it. If it was real, it would come to him when it was needed, not simply when it was wanted, and searching for it would only drive it away. Still...who doesn't want something better for their family, for themselves? As little as he put into the search-simply going along with others around him-he still wanted it. And now....well, now he might be wondering if something like Paradise is really worth all this life-or-death, jumping through hoops for some powerful being stuff. Struggling before almost feels like it was easier.

At least he knew what was coming then.

How has your character emotionally and mentally handled attempting and failing the Trials?

Short version: He hasn't?

Long version: Frankie was already a bit of a jittery cat. This, however...all of this has made him almost worse. He looks confident at times, and truly does his best to overcome his fears and keep moving forward, but he's scared. He's hurt. His confidence is shot. His faith is wavering, and really, he just wants it to be over. If he's dead, he can't be afraid. He can't be hurt. He simply cannot be and maybe that's better...and if this is over and he lives, then there's nothing sweeter than paradise. But for all the effort he puts into trying to be strong, it's not hard to see that he's deeply rattled.

Also, he kind of thinks he might just be dead, so....that's fun.

RELATIONSHIPS

Sexuality and Love:

Current Mate: None
Mate Status:None
Past Mate: None

Romance: Panromantic
Sexuality: Pansexual

stranger| Curious of
= Acquaintance | = Friend
= Good Friend | = Best Friend
= Family
= Ally | = Respects
= Uncertain of | = Enemy
= Dislikes | = Hates
= Crush | = Love
Mate
? Unknown state
Deceased

Name| deviant :bullet::bullet::bullet:

Description

BASIC INFORMATION
Name:Franklin
Nickname[s]: Frankie [preferred name, goes by this]
Gender: Male
Breed: Maine Coone x Manx
Actual Age: 14 years
Physical Age: 4 years
Entered Trials: Approx 1 1/2 years old
Entered Stasis: Approx. 2 years old
Birth Season: Late Winter
Soul Class: ???
Soul Bond: ???

Statistics

Intellect: ••••
Charisma: ••
Stamina: •••••••
Strength: •••••
Speed: ••

In Depth:
Intellect [4]: Frankie is not the most intelligent feline, though what he does have he uses as best he can. His intelligence lies most in his knack for knowing how to read other cats. He is not street smart, nor is he book smart, but he knows when you're feeling down and how to cheer you up, when you need space, or when you just need a good story spun off the top of some massive cottonball of a cat's head.

Charisma [2]: A charismatic cat, Frankie is not. The most he could lead you to is a brick wall. He's not a leader in any sense of the word, but he's pretty okay with that. He's a horrible liar, has no poker face, and really, even convincing you to walk into that brick wall is out of his league. Some cats could make drowning in a pool of thick, black, sticky tar sound downright appealing, but if Frankie tried, he'd make it sound worse than it already would be.

Stamina [7]: For all the bulk he has to carry around, Frankie is a pretty tough cat. Not in the sense that he's a fighter, but in the sense that it takes a long time to wear him down to where he can no longer continue to go on anymore. He's got pretty good emotional and physical endurance and though he probably has wanted to from time to time, he does not fall to the ground and stop until he feels that he, and anyone he happens to be with, is safe. Not brave, but determined, if there was any cat that would turn around to dig you out of burning rubble and still be able to carry you to safety, it'd be Frankie. For him, there's no rest until there's no choice.

Strength [5]: Fighting is easy, when you have bulk and you know how to throw it around. Though this gentle giant does not like to fight, he can be pretty good at it if he tries. Sure, it's probably just because he can knock the air from your lungs or sende your head spinning pretty quickly with one well-aimed smack of those massive paws, but he'll get better with time. However, strength is not just about fighting. Frankie's good for heavy lifting, tough and menial labor, and keeping his chin up when things get tough.

Speed [2]: Ah, Frankie's biggest weakness: speed. He's not very good at moving fast. He's a little top-heavy and toppled over a lot as a much younger kitten when he was just learning to walk and run, and it's just not easy to move all that weight quickly, strength or otherwise. He is not a sprinter, if it's easier to phrase it that way. More of an endurance racer; the cat you stick in a long race so that, even if he's not as fast as his opponents, he'll still at least come in at the top three because everyone else burnt out early on.

APPEARANCE
Book Description: A large, thick-pelted tom with a dark marbled tabby pelt, no tail, and brown eyes.
Fur: Brown
Markings: Dark brown marbled stripes, a pale muzzle, eye spots, ear spots, toes, throat, and belly
Eyes:
Brown
Scars:----
Accessories:---
Etc. Very thick pelt, kind of chubby, massive paws, no tail whatsoever

PERSONALITY
Perceptive|Caring|Hard-Working|Nervous|Honest|Predictable

Perceptive: having or showing keenness of insight, understanding, or intuition

Frankie can catch on pretty quickly to how others are feeling, even if they're trying to hide it. He's especially good on picking up on body language-everyone has a tell or two when they're trying to hide something, and Frankie-while not being an expert-is pretty skilled on picking them out. Though it is really nice to know if someone's lying to you, it can also be a bit stressful, because then it's hard to know who to trust. Why are they lying? What's so bad that they need to keep secrets? He tries to work with it, but it does fray his nerves a bit. Frankie is a pretty understanding cat, most of the time. He just so happens to be a bit high-strung and his imagination tends to get the better of him every so often.

Caring: displaying kindness and concern for others

Frankie has a big heart. A huge heart, really. Full of empathy and sympathy and all of that good stuff. Is it easily exploited? Maybe. Does that stop him from being kind to everyone he meets? Not really, though it should. There's nothing wrong with having a bit of discretion when it comes to lending a helping hand, but Frankie would do just about anything he could if he felt like someone could use his help and it's within his power to do so. At the same time, he can care a little more than he should, and so he can get a bit more emotionally invested than is sometimes necessary. When he can't help, he feels terrible. He's a nice, young cat. He wants you to know that, and he'll do all he can to show it, in whatever way he can. If all you need is silent support, he's the shoulder to cry or lean on. If you need a distraction, he can whip one up for you. Do you need mindless chatter? He can do that. He'll give you what you want or need if he feels like it'll make you feel better.

Hard-Working: tending to work with energy and commitment; diligent

Sweet Frankie doesn't give up easily. Yes, he's nervous, but he tries to work past it. When he is given a job, Frankie gets it done and he doesn't stop until he feels like it's been done well. He is committed to a job well done. This current goal is no different. Of course it isn't-this is something to not be taken lightly-but Frankie is so terribly determined, it has the potential to keep him up at night, trying to find something he doesn't know how to find, and trying to find a way to complete tasks that may reside far outside of his skill set. He has the potential to get stuck in a rut, and it's not hard to believe that someday, someone may have to force him to sit down and rest because Frankie would probably work himself to the bone if left to his own devices.

Nervous: easily agitated or alarmed; tending to be anxious; highly strung

To be frank, Frankie has zero chill. He is easily frightened, and a lot of things set him on edge much easier than they would with other cats. He jumps at noises that may or not not be there, and can be easily spooked by his own shadow. His mind has a habit of escaping from him and running with ideas until they are far-fetched. Sometimes it makes it hard to trust others, because unless they are honest with their intentions, Frankie doesn't know if they don't mean him harm. He often looks for reassurance to make sure those around him still like him. He's just anxious. He doesn't know where it came from, or how to stop it, but he hopes daily for someone who is much steadier in mind and calmer to help him out. Maybe that's what he's missing with his other half.

Honest: free of deceit and untruthfulness; sincere

Frankie does not like to lie. He does not like to keep secrets. He feels like he will be easier to trust if he is open with everything. Sometimes, it may come off like he has no filter, and he apologizes for it often, because he sometimes can say things that should probably be kept behind closed lips. He tries to make sure any companions of his know how he feels about them, and if you need to know what someone thinks of you or something you've done, you should probably ask Frankie. He'll let it slip. This may be why cats keep their deeper secrets from him. He's not good at keeping them. On the bright side, you always know where you stand with Frankie.

Predictable: ------

As hard as he might try to not be, poor Frankie is a cat that follows very easily predicted paths of behavior. He sticks to a routine the best be can, even when things don't go to plan. He likes to eat the same foods at the same times, he reacts the same way to things every time-you can always count on Frankie to leap into a fight to try and protect those he cares about no matter what, and you can always count on him to keep going even when he's tired-and nothing he does every really mixes things up. He actually seems to get a little bit frustrated when things don't happen they way he's used to, though it's gotten a lot better since his world was thrown head over heels into something completely different than anything he'd ever experienced before. Still, Frankie likes things a certain way, and he does things a certain way, and that's just how he is.

BACKSTORY
Mother: Alyson [deceased]
Father: Ty [deceased]
Brother[s]: Emerson
Sister[s]: Marissa [Deceased]

History:

With the state the world was in, bringing a litter of kittens into the world might not have been the smartest idea, but Alyson was determined, despite Ty's insistance that maybe-just maybe- they didn't live in the best environment for family life, and so eventually three little kittens came into the world. Franklin was quite possibly the largest of the three, a round and roly-poly sort of kitten from the very beginning, a shape accentuated by his complete and utter lack of a tail, but Emerson wasn't close behind. The two of them in fact, looked like perfectly healthy little ones, the strong sort that had a higher chance of survival. This was a hopeful thing, a reason to keep going, but the third kitten didn't fare quite so well. Frankie, if you ask him, doesn't remember his sister. At time, in the thick of it all, he may even forget her a little bit, but it's not truly his fault she died so young Marissa was a bit smaller, a bit more frail, than the other two kittens...but there was still a chance, as far as her parents were concerned. And even though Alyson had insisted on startting a family, she wasn't completely idealistic. The world was obviously in shambles, things were constantly falling apart, and danger practically lurked at every corner. It was impossible to ignore, and so the little family of five was constantly on the move.

Some of Frankie's earliest memories are of being carried around by either his mother or father, his little legs that were too small to keep up dangling limply in the air.

He was the first to be able to walk, though it was Emerson who was the first to be allowed to do so for long periods of time because while Frankie could walk for what seemed like ages for a kitten, he couldn't do it very fast, and Emerson was a bit better at keeping up the pace. Marissa was almost always carried. He kind of remembers that much. Their parents took turns carrying the little ones, never settling down for very long at all. Ty had already been a bit on the worried side-it was his alertness that had gotten him that far in life-but it was like it had amplified tenfold after the arrival of the kittens. No place was every completely safe enough. No place had enough food, enough water, enough shelter from the elements and strange cats who might mean them harm, and as long as they remained moving targets, they'd be much harder to hit.

Frankie doesn't ever remember having a stable home, and even now the idea of staying in one place feels foreign.

It wasn't exactly much of a shock to either parents when they lost Marissa. The kitten had been fading slowly over time, always being beaten out by bigger, stronger siblings who had no clue they were doing their sister harm, but the end came on rather suddenly. One moment, she'd been okay. The next, she'd been a bit sick and then it was as if Alyson and Ty had blinked and she was just gone. Sadly, with two other thriving kittens around, there wasn't much time to grieve. They had to pull themselves together and get moving, or else there'd be far more to worry about that a single dead kitten.

As soon as it could be done, both Em and Frankie were given lessons by their parents in the basics of survival. Hunting, tracking, fighting...you name it, they had a crash course in it. Was it a perfect education? Far from it, but they family was doing the best they could given the circumstances. Frankllin didn't turn out to be the most impressive of hunters or scavengers, but once he figured out how to use his bulk to his advantage, fighting and defense just clicked. The sight took some weight off of his parents' shoulders. Together, their children would be fine and if they were ever separated, there was a high chance both of them would be able to get by okay. They'd just either be a little hungrier or a little more beat up.

Nights were the one time the family didn't move much. They could see just fine in the dark, but the kittens would get tired around sunset, and it was too hard to drag them around...and after a certain point, they were just too heavy to carry. So Alyson took to storytelling instead of traveling by night, pulling her little ones as close as she could and telling them stories. The most common subject was a place far better than one either kitten had ever known, and Frankie would often fall asleep with images of sunshiney worlds dancing about behind his eyes, though sometimes they heard stories about the stars, or cats with magic powers. Alyson tried to keep things varied, though it always strayed back to the idea of a place where no one was ever hungry, scared, or sick. Sadly, she didn't get to see that world become a reality (but Frankie's going to see it for her. He has to now.)

Sick, dying, and fully aware of it, Alyson left her children and her mate, not wanting any of them to bear witness to what was happening to her. The three kept up with their daily travels, though it didn't quite feel the same. Ty didn't talk much and the nights now were far quieter, because no one could tell a story quite like Alyson could. None of them could do her justice, so none of them tried. This went on fior a while, the three of them silently walking and scavenging and trying to survive. That was it. Nothing more. Emerson and Frankie talked more amongst each other than they did to their father, the two young cats rarely ever seen all that far apart from each nother. They were a year old in age when Ty finally stopped, pulled them aside, and told them that they needed to stick together now more than ever before. Frankie, of course, wanted to know why. Was something happening? Were they in more danger? Was Ty going to do the same thing to them their mother had?

No. He wasn't dying, but they were old enough to be on their own now, and Ty was tired. It was time they started off on their own lives, time that he took care of himself again. So off the two went. As long as they had each other, Frankie insisted, they would be okay. They had their skills, complimentary to each other, and they had the well-wishes of their father. They had their mother watching over them, her stories ringing loud and clear in their heads. Nothing could stop them, not when they'd made it that far. And nothing did, until the pair of them found something to stop them in their tracks.

Cats.

More cats in one place than they had ever seen before, simply because they'd been a small, nomadic family unti their entire lives. And, on top of that, A god.

Strangers. A literaly god. Mentions of a place they had only heard about in their mother's stories. Frankie, his heart beating it's way out of his chest and into his throat, agreed. There was no way he wasn't going to try and get to Paradise. He'd see it for his mother, trials be damned. He wasn't scared of them. He wasn't scared of Ordeel. As long as he had a little bit of hope and Emerson by his side, it was going to be okay.

He hadn't expected a dark, eerily quiet forest, or having to work with cats who weren't his sibling, who didn't know him like Emerson did. He hadn't expected the beasts that came for them, or any of the troubles that haunted them. but he had been right when he'd told Emerson they'd be fine as long as they stuck together. Frankie had the brawn to get them through some obstacles and when that inevietably failed, there was Emerson's brains to solve the puzzles Frankie's strength couldn't handle. They were quite the pair and while the first trial was exhausting, by the end of it, Frankie was honestly feeling rather confident. That was until they reached the gate, and something tried to tear his only remaining family member right out from under his paws. The other cats ran for the gate; Frankie ran for Emerson. Frankie called for help, demanded they do something, begged those who remained to do anything they could so that he would not be left alone. The rest of it's all a bit of a blur.

Frankie doesn't remember much. All he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, and all he could see was Emerson being taken from him.

Something happened-he wasn't and still isn't sure what-but they made it. Out of one trial and into the next, though the group was far too small to be any sort of successful. Frankie and Emerson had gotten through a lot together, but even with one other cat, there was no way they could survive whatever was planned for them now. Any earned bravado and confidence Frankie had gained had swiftly fled him. He was tired. So was Em. When the only other cat that had made it through left them, all he could do was lay down beside Emerson and try to rest. They were simply too weak to go on, and Em was wounded...and even if he didn't want to admit it, Frankie thought they might have to give up.

Alyson would have been proud. He had to tell himself that. She'd be so proud that they'd made it this far.

Sleep didn't come easy, but it did come. But when he awoke, it wasn't the heat of the colisuem and it's horrid, rancid smell that met Frankie. It was a jungle. Quiet, like the forest, but pecefully so. It didn't make sense, but Frankie wasn't complaining. Maybe he was simply dead, and this was what that got them-and if so, he was going to find Emerson first thing, because he had woken up completely alone for the first time in his life, and then he was going to find his mother, and they were going to be happy again. And if he found his father in the process, that would be okay, too. But maybe it was just a dream. How was he supposed to know the difference?

He still doesn't, but as time goes on, he's less and less sure that this is just the afterlife.

But he still doesn't have the proof that he isn't dead, so who knows, really?

What was your character's stance about Paradise before the gate, and how has their opinion changed?

Frankie was hopeful, because when the world is as messed up and dangerous as it was, hope is something to hold onto, but at the same time, he was always so very, very afraid that there was nothing better out there, that everything was just one big fairy told told to kittens by their parents so they could sleep well at night. There was always a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that there was no real paradise, that the world was the way it was....still, he tried to be strong. He wanted to believe in it, but he also wasn't going to bend over backwards to search for it. If it was real, it would come to him when it was needed, not simply when it was wanted, and searching for it would only drive it away. Still...who doesn't want something better for their family, for themselves? As little as he put into the search-simply going along with others around him-he still wanted it. And now....well, now he might be wondering if something like Paradise is really worth all this life-or-death, jumping through hoops for some powerful being stuff. Struggling before almost feels like it was easier.

At least he knew what was coming then.

How has your character emotionally and mentally handled attempting and failing the Trials?

Short version: He hasn't?

Long version: Frankie was already a bit of a jittery cat. This, however...all of this has made him almost worse. He looks confident at times, and truly does his best to overcome his fears and keep moving forward, but he's scared. He's hurt. His confidence is shot. His faith is wavering, and really, he just wants it to be over. If he's dead, he can't be afraid. He can't be hurt. He simply cannot be and maybe that's better...and if this is over and he lives, then there's nothing sweeter than paradise. But for all the effort he puts into trying to be strong, it's not hard to see that he's deeply rattled.

Also, he kind of thinks he might just be dead, so....that's fun.

RELATIONSHIPS

Sexuality and Love:

Current Mate: None
Mate Status:None
Past Mate: None

Romance: Panromantic
Sexuality: Pansexual

stranger| Curious of
= Acquaintance | = Friend
= Good Friend | = Best Friend
= Family
= Ally | = Respects
= Uncertain of | = Enemy
= Dislikes | = Hates
= Crush | = Love
Mate
? Unknown state
Deceased

Name| deviant :bullet::bullet::bullet: