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Description

I've never actually watched Super Natural, but I love the idea of the group, and a lot of my buddies have watched the show >v>; Maybe I'll have to scour the internet for episodes now...

Name Francine Warrens
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Partner: Otto Oakes

Height: 5'4" / 1.65 m
Weight: 117 lb / 53.1 kg
Place of Birth: (near) Appleby, TX

Current Earnings: $49.00
Inventory: Pistol, Small knife, Small can of salt, Matches
Vehicle: 1962 Jeep Willys But in light brown.

Personality: Patient, Friendly, and Hard Working.
Francine is a farm girl down to the core. She toils day in and day out, bringing her patience and crops. She's a simple gal, enjoying all the small things of life while ignoring the material needs of the world about her. Suspicion tends to be her first reaction to strangers, but once they are confirmed safe, she'll be fairly open about anything. With this open attitude comes an open mouth, one that is blunt and unforgiving. And with her work harding nature, she become impatient with lazy people. This can be one of the few things that will disturb her calm and send her yelling or kicking.

History:
Francine grew up in one place. Out on a farm in the midst of nowhere with only a town of 400 people not far away. Appleby was its name, a place boiling in summer, but toasty and hot in winter. Her mother was the true owner of their family wheat farm, her grandfather being the owner before her. And once her mother told her of how she met her father, but that is a story for another time.

As a young child Francine was almost immediately put to work. After a few years of play through her toddler stage she soon began to assist her mother with milking the family cow, patching torn clothing, and helping to cook meals. It was a demanding life that always ended with a good old fashion fairy tale before bed. Then up bright and early she was up again.

She had an older brother at the time. One who would always be out in the field with her farther, working from dawn till dusk. When she was 13 he managed to mangle his leg during harvest season, it was then that she began to learn the basic easy work of farming, still too young to take on the heavy machinery or do great lifting. When they weren't farming, when there was a rare day off from the constant attention to the wheat, she would go hunting with her father, or accompany her brother for a fishing trip.

Years went on in this way, two new siblings joining their small family. Francine would take on as much work as she could handle with her dear father, expecting to inherit the farm if her two younger sisters didn't quite meet the requirements. However, one day when Francine was 26, a dusk in the wheat fields went awry. It was no secret in the local bars and diners that recently cattle have been going missing at night, only to be found dead and drained in the morning light. It was unnerving news, rumors, but the Warrens owned a farm, so Francine hadn't put much thought to it.
But it was that dusk, that fatefully twilight, that Francine's life would change. Out in the wheat fields she walked, her home's electric lanterns glowing invitingly in the distance. Yet she paused when a rustle met her dark ears. Moments of standing still given her only the swishing of dancing wheat and the whisper of her own clothing. Just as she was sure she was hearing things, that it had simply been the wind that already pulled at her dreds, just as she took a step forth, it struck. A great beast pounced, crashing Francine to the earth. The battle with the beast was brief for the great leathery creature was used to frightened defenseless prey, a quick easy death. This dark skinned woman has too much fight, too much will. It was after lucky disorienting punch to the beast's head that it was sent running, and Francine was up and going the other way. She raced for that safe glow of the lanterns.

Her injuries that day had been minor, only shallow cuts and bruises. It would be later, when she was healed and no longer jumpy at the slightest sway of wheat, that Francine went to the Appleby library in search for answers. No books on nature provided answers, no creature that she saw in those pages. It would be in a book on mythological creatures, that she had chosen to relieve her boredom and hopeless emotions, that Francine would discover a description of a Chupacabra. A beast generally found in Mexico that would feast on goats and sheep. She concluded that it must have been driven across the border and up to her farm lands. Convinced that it had been this creature, she decided it was time for a break from farming. Leaving the land to be worked by her old father and two younger sisters, now 17 and 19, she set off to figure out more of this Chupacabra, though she would find more than that.

Likes:
Apple pie
Smoked meat
Nature
A shower
Scent of rain

Dislikes:
Lazy folks
Rap music
Malls
Whiners

Extra:
• Francine's not afraid to get dirty, but she does like a nice shower every night.
• Growing up on a farm meant simple clothing and home schooling, Francine never got a grasp on fashion.
• She enjoys peace and quiet over music and noise. Birds twittering or the gush of wind are her music, that or a simple single guitar.
• The above applies to her fighting style as well. Silent in and silent out, blades are preferred.
• Francine enjoys using metaphors.
• She hit the bars as soon as she turned 21. Enjoyed drinking with farming friends and her crippled brother.

Rp Snippet:
Prompt 2] Your car has broken down on the side of the road. It's a clear five miles before you find help in either direction, and it's started to rain.

Frustration vented itself from dark lips in the form of a ragged sigh soon damped by moisture. Down from the grey clouds above rain drops fell. Swiftly plummeting down towards earth to slap on pavement or to plop on the furrowed brow of a woman leaning against the back of her old jeep. With her voluptuous butt making a comfy cushion and the rain working to cool off her coiled ball of annoyance and frustration, she found her location comfy, even if her situation was not.

This old car, this hunk of rusting metal, wasn't even her own vehicle. The only form of transportation with her name on it was her own two feet. And it remained that way till some generous creep pulled over one fateful baking day and offered her a ride. His hair was either always fluffed like a frightened cat's tail, or the heat had puffed it out. Turned out, it was always a giant hair ball on his head. But who was she to deny a stranger's kindness? He was a skinny enough fellow, got nothing on his bones but scare crow stuffing. The most danger she could expect from him was to have a seat full of Playboys that he called his girlfriend. Lucky for her, he didn't appear to have those in the open.

Another sigh slipped over her full lips as the rain began to shower at full force. The once small droplets now plump and fat, slapping loudly against the dried grass at the side of the road. Already her sparse clothing clung to her flesh and her dreds laid just a little flatter against her head and back. She supposed this was God's way of telling her she needed a shower, for her gleaming sweat must have shone too brightly in his great blue eyes, or her stench was already peeling past her soap layer from the night before.

Just as Francine pushed herself up and off the back of the jeep, the roar of a car could be heard. Her head snapped toward the sound and the growing car in the distance. Taking the customary stance, she thrust out her thumb, hoping it would serve as a shining beacon. Instead the car zoomed on by, slathering the stranded woman in a layer of muddy grime and dirty droplets. So much for catching a ride, apparently she didn't appeal to all drivers like she had to Otto. But it was no use standing around, she had work to do. And after leaning into the front seat and switching the car to neutral, she returned to its back and began to shove. It was going to be a long day.

((Yes, this is more or less the amount I write per reply if not in a chat room RP ;v; ))

Art, Francine (c) Me
App (c) =aomaoe

Description

I've never actually watched Super Natural, but I love the idea of the group, and a lot of my buddies have watched the show >v>; Maybe I'll have to scour the internet for episodes now...

Name Francine Warrens
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Partner: Otto Oakes

Height: 5'4" / 1.65 m
Weight: 117 lb / 53.1 kg
Place of Birth: (near) Appleby, TX

Current Earnings: $49.00
Inventory: Pistol, Small knife, Small can of salt, Matches
Vehicle: 1962 Jeep Willys But in light brown.

Personality: Patient, Friendly, and Hard Working.
Francine is a farm girl down to the core. She toils day in and day out, bringing her patience and crops. She's a simple gal, enjoying all the small things of life while ignoring the material needs of the world about her. Suspicion tends to be her first reaction to strangers, but once they are confirmed safe, she'll be fairly open about anything. With this open attitude comes an open mouth, one that is blunt and unforgiving. And with her work harding nature, she become impatient with lazy people. This can be one of the few things that will disturb her calm and send her yelling or kicking.

History:
Francine grew up in one place. Out on a farm in the midst of nowhere with only a town of 400 people not far away. Appleby was its name, a place boiling in summer, but toasty and hot in winter. Her mother was the true owner of their family wheat farm, her grandfather being the owner before her. And once her mother told her of how she met her father, but that is a story for another time.

As a young child Francine was almost immediately put to work. After a few years of play through her toddler stage she soon began to assist her mother with milking the family cow, patching torn clothing, and helping to cook meals. It was a demanding life that always ended with a good old fashion fairy tale before bed. Then up bright and early she was up again.

She had an older brother at the time. One who would always be out in the field with her farther, working from dawn till dusk. When she was 13 he managed to mangle his leg during harvest season, it was then that she began to learn the basic easy work of farming, still too young to take on the heavy machinery or do great lifting. When they weren't farming, when there was a rare day off from the constant attention to the wheat, she would go hunting with her father, or accompany her brother for a fishing trip.

Years went on in this way, two new siblings joining their small family. Francine would take on as much work as she could handle with her dear father, expecting to inherit the farm if her two younger sisters didn't quite meet the requirements. However, one day when Francine was 26, a dusk in the wheat fields went awry. It was no secret in the local bars and diners that recently cattle have been going missing at night, only to be found dead and drained in the morning light. It was unnerving news, rumors, but the Warrens owned a farm, so Francine hadn't put much thought to it.
But it was that dusk, that fatefully twilight, that Francine's life would change. Out in the wheat fields she walked, her home's electric lanterns glowing invitingly in the distance. Yet she paused when a rustle met her dark ears. Moments of standing still given her only the swishing of dancing wheat and the whisper of her own clothing. Just as she was sure she was hearing things, that it had simply been the wind that already pulled at her dreds, just as she took a step forth, it struck. A great beast pounced, crashing Francine to the earth. The battle with the beast was brief for the great leathery creature was used to frightened defenseless prey, a quick easy death. This dark skinned woman has too much fight, too much will. It was after lucky disorienting punch to the beast's head that it was sent running, and Francine was up and going the other way. She raced for that safe glow of the lanterns.

Her injuries that day had been minor, only shallow cuts and bruises. It would be later, when she was healed and no longer jumpy at the slightest sway of wheat, that Francine went to the Appleby library in search for answers. No books on nature provided answers, no creature that she saw in those pages. It would be in a book on mythological creatures, that she had chosen to relieve her boredom and hopeless emotions, that Francine would discover a description of a Chupacabra. A beast generally found in Mexico that would feast on goats and sheep. She concluded that it must have been driven across the border and up to her farm lands. Convinced that it had been this creature, she decided it was time for a break from farming. Leaving the land to be worked by her old father and two younger sisters, now 17 and 19, she set off to figure out more of this Chupacabra, though she would find more than that.

Likes:
Apple pie
Smoked meat
Nature
A shower
Scent of rain

Dislikes:
Lazy folks
Rap music
Malls
Whiners

Extra:
• Francine's not afraid to get dirty, but she does like a nice shower every night.
• Growing up on a farm meant simple clothing and home schooling, Francine never got a grasp on fashion.
• She enjoys peace and quiet over music and noise. Birds twittering or the gush of wind are her music, that or a simple single guitar.
• The above applies to her fighting style as well. Silent in and silent out, blades are preferred.
• Francine enjoys using metaphors.
• She hit the bars as soon as she turned 21. Enjoyed drinking with farming friends and her crippled brother.

Rp Snippet:
Prompt 2] Your car has broken down on the side of the road. It's a clear five miles before you find help in either direction, and it's started to rain.

Frustration vented itself from dark lips in the form of a ragged sigh soon damped by moisture. Down from the grey clouds above rain drops fell. Swiftly plummeting down towards earth to slap on pavement or to plop on the furrowed brow of a woman leaning against the back of her old jeep. With her voluptuous butt making a comfy cushion and the rain working to cool off her coiled ball of annoyance and frustration, she found her location comfy, even if her situation was not.

This old car, this hunk of rusting metal, wasn't even her own vehicle. The only form of transportation with her name on it was her own two feet. And it remained that way till some generous creep pulled over one fateful baking day and offered her a ride. His hair was either always fluffed like a frightened cat's tail, or the heat had puffed it out. Turned out, it was always a giant hair ball on his head. But who was she to deny a stranger's kindness? He was a skinny enough fellow, got nothing on his bones but scare crow stuffing. The most danger she could expect from him was to have a seat full of Playboys that he called his girlfriend. Lucky for her, he didn't appear to have those in the open.

Another sigh slipped over her full lips as the rain began to shower at full force. The once small droplets now plump and fat, slapping loudly against the dried grass at the side of the road. Already her sparse clothing clung to her flesh and her dreds laid just a little flatter against her head and back. She supposed this was God's way of telling her she needed a shower, for her gleaming sweat must have shone too brightly in his great blue eyes, or her stench was already peeling past her soap layer from the night before.

Just as Francine pushed herself up and off the back of the jeep, the roar of a car could be heard. Her head snapped toward the sound and the growing car in the distance. Taking the customary stance, she thrust out her thumb, hoping it would serve as a shining beacon. Instead the car zoomed on by, slathering the stranded woman in a layer of muddy grime and dirty droplets. So much for catching a ride, apparently she didn't appeal to all drivers like she had to Otto. But it was no use standing around, she had work to do. And after leaning into the front seat and switching the car to neutral, she returned to its back and began to shove. It was going to be a long day.

((Yes, this is more or less the amount I write per reply if not in a chat room RP ;v; ))

Art, Francine (c) Me
App (c) =aomaoe