 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| What's yer name? | *Stands in front of the tool closet, frowning. Starts moving things around, then jumps as you ask your question. Glances back at you* Hmm? *you repeat the question* Frances Evans, unfortunately. *looks mildly disgusted by this fact* |
| Dat what people call ya, or d'ya got a nickname? | *with a hint of what may have once been a highly sarcastic sense of humor* No, they don't call me that, thank God. I go by Frankie. |
| Whaddaya look like? | *rolls her eyes* Normal? *she has long red hair that is tied back into an efficient bun, and brown eyes. She's not beautiful, but she doesn't have the kind of face that someone would easily forget. She's just barely over five feet tall, and has a no-nonsense look about her. She also is beginning to show faint signs of the early stages of pregnancy* |
| How old are ya? | *quietly* Twenty seven. |
| What kind of work d'ya do? Actor, stagehand, what? | *gestures toward the cluttered mess in the tool closet* Stagehand. |
| Got any experience at dat? An' how'd ya end up heah, anyway? | *shrugs* It's a long, boring story. *it's anything but, but she obviously doesn't want to talk about it* |
| How 'bout tellin' us a little 'bout yerself? Ya know, what kind of personality ya got? | *shrugs again* I'm a hard worker, good at doing what needs to be done. *is actually a workaholic on the edge of obsessive-compulsive, and uses work as a way to control her life. She also tends to be very self-contained, only confiding in Curse and Thomason, and while she's friendly, in a quiet, introverted sort of way, she really doesn't have any friends other than them* |
| Any special talents? | **shrugs again* Yeah, I have a photographic memory. That's about it. *doesn't mention her ability to hear ghosts (though she is unable to see them, apparently)* |