Posts by FRANKIE

The two paused and looked to the injured female. Frankie's eyes narrowed, and they both knew how he got around women. Flustered, sheepish... though he always tried to charm. "Hiya." He started. Before he could say anything else, Jerseyboy had jumped right back in and stepped forward, as if to secretly prevent Frankie from hitting on Vang. "Frankie, this is Vang. Vang, this is my lil' brotha'." The smaller black tom glanced up at Jerseyboy again and quirked a brow. "You... you've been livin' here this whole time?"
The tuxedo tom gave a nod. "Yeah. You?" "RiverClan."

Jerseyboy looked a little surprise. So, Frankie wasn't dead or anything like that, which was always great to know. The small tom turned back towards Vang and asked, "So, ah... are you his girlfriend or somethin'?" To that Jerseyboy wouldn't say anything. He just looked at the Huskapard and shrugged, playing dumb. Jers wasn't actually expecting her to say yes, as he was just messing with her.

Would anyone like to plot with my smol baby? He's the little
brother of Jerseyboy, my character in BlizzardClan. He's passionate about music and singing. His personality and everything else can be found in his tags!

Open to:
- friends
- frenemies
- one-sided/mutual crushes
- your suggestions!

Closed to:
- litters/kill/maim/rape/capture/torture

Frankie had found himself next to Ramses, the only one here that he was acquainted with. He arched a brow at Ninjasexparty, or Dan or whatever he was to be called by. "Gee, uh... did you give that name to yourself?" He didn't intend to be mean, really. In fact, his tone was more questioning than sarcastic. Sometimes he tended to be a little blunt with things.

Frankie had also found himself by the river. He was hoping on dipping his paws in the water, maybe relearning how to swim. It had been a few months and he was still rusty. What he found, though, was a dog. He remembered how the mindless mutts on the streets of Belleville had chased he and his brother around for hours. Man, what a fun time, and a scary one as well. Jersey always had more fun than him, anyways.

The black tom didn't know whether or not this was a RiverClanner. How would he ask? Well, it would go something like this, "Uh, hiya." His accent was certainly prominent, and the manner in which he spoke was mildly sheepish, though Frankie was certainly trying. "You live here or somethin'?"

Frankie arched a brow. Huh, maybe she was just being sarcastic or something. The male shook his head and said, "Nah, that's not what I meant." He flicked an ear and gestured over his shoulder, "I live over there. Y'know, in RiverClan." Frankie paused for a moment. The scent on the dog, it wasn't that of a clan. It was of civilization; roads and humans. It was something that he had once known, and boy, did he miss it a lot. He really had no easy way of getting back there, though. "You're not from around here, are ya'?" Frankie finally asked. He was clearly taking a more calmer stance with strangers. "You gotta' name?"

The black tom wandered through the jungle, admiring the new sights and smells that the territory had to offer. It was so different from the concrete jungle that he lived in. It was an interesting change, but he could admit that he missed New Jersey. It was apart of him, and now he felt like something was missing from his life. So, he would do one of the few things that he could to remind of him of hometown and all the memories that he made there.

As if to respond to the songs that the tropical birds tweeted, Frankie would sing, "Just like a wandering sparrow, one lonely soul..." His voice wasn't of mediocre quality, either. Frankie, back at home, was known for his voice and how high of a pitch he could reach. He often sang songs and played music with his brother, Jerseyboy, and he wouldn't be a musician if it weren't for him. "I walked the straight and narrow, to reach my goal..." His voice softly traveled through the trees, though he didn't bother to belt it too loud. After all, he wasn't performing for anyone. "God's gift from up above, a real unselfish love, I found in my mother's eyes..." It was "My Mother's Eyes" by Frankie Valli, the famous human that he was named after.

Well, this one was certainly a spitfire. She used profanity in every sentence, almost like his older brother, though he was more charming in the way he said things. Maybe this Calypso girl was angry about something? He could understand that, but hopefully this attitude wasn't permanent. "C'mon, they're just tryna' help." The black tom cat suggested, trying to keep the peace, but he realized that it might've been a mistake. Would she slap him or something? Frankie hoped not. "I'm, ah, Frankie. Do you need anything?"

Frankie observed the dancing from afar. He wasn't a dancer; he had grown up in more of a music family, but he still appreciated the art of it all. It must've been hard to dance especially with shoes. "That's some funky stuff you're doin' with ya' feet there." Frankie commented quietly as he sat down to watch.

Frankie found himself by the river. He was hoping on dipping his paws in the water, maybe relearning how to swim. It had been a few months since he had properly swam and he had grown rusty. So, the black tom impulsively jumped into the rushing waters. He may have been smarter than his older brother, but being headstrong and strong-willed ran in their family. Frankie obviously didn't think about how he would nearly drown, as he coughed and gasped for air. He struggled to keep his head above water as he clung to the riverbank, mustering his strength and pulling himself onto land. The male hacked and panted, droplets beading at his soaking pelt. Huh, maybe he shouldn't have started off in such a strong current. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

Beautifulspirit  

Herb gathering? Well, he didn't know a thing about herbs or healing. Where he came from, you just kept the wound clean and dealt with it... maybe slap a band-aid on there if you were lucky enough to find one. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from this; he could learn how to keep his own ass alive if he were ever injured. So, the black tom would step forward. Damn, he didn't know anyone here. Oh well. "I, ah, don't know about herbs or nuttin'. You'll hafta' point them out to me." Frankie said with a shrug.

To boot? What did that mean, exactly? Frankie stepped forward, slight concern and curiosity evident on his features. He came from a place that people got into fights and even got murdered on some occasions, but never tortured on this level. These clan cats had wars and battles... things that New Jersey simply didn't have. He wasn't used to these political affairs at all, so when he saw Jackdaw plopped down for his clanmates to view, he would flick an ear and ask, "Uh... what are ya' plannin' to do to 'im?" Frankie really didn't know what this guy had done, considering that he was new.