The Partisan

His name was Frank. There was no middle name, no last, there was barely a first. Well... there was. There were many first. 

Noah.
Peter. 
Skylar.
Jakob. 
Seth.
Victor.
George.
Sarah.
Noel. 
Leonard.
Jessica.

Each name held a different face, a different story.

But now... now it was Frank. Just Frank. No middle name, no last name. Hell,  it was barely his first name.

Frank wasn't immortal, he wasn't a shape shifter, not a god, not a spirit, he wasn't anything terribly supernatural unless his new face was. And now, he didn't have MPD Frank's face was indeed something supernatural, but very mortal, as were the other faces. They bled, they cried, and they died, and then another was born. A Peter, a Jakob, a Sarah. He remembered them all, their births, their lives, and their deaths. Every night he dreamed of one of those lives and ever morning he'd wake up as someone else. 

Frank was a simple man, with simple needs, and simple likes, along with a somewhat simple life. He worked a nine to five job for a printing company, he was five feet and eleven inches tall, he wasn't fat, but he wasn't athletic either, nor was he skin and bone. He was twenty six years old, but his co-workers said he looked thirty five. His eyes were hazel and his hair could be mistaken for dirty blond, but it was actually a very light brown.

He wants to move to France, but doesn't know a lick of  French, even after taking it for four years in high school. It seemed it never stuck with him, but that was alright, because he had already lived in France once as Jakob, but that had been during the 1840s, so much has changed since then and Jakob's life had been rather short and poor.

His favorite animal is a cat. A simple house cat at that, one that is somewhat fat, but kind. He doesn't have one though, his apartment won't allow it, but it doesn't stop him from going to various shelters to look at them. If he has cash to spare, and he generally does, it goes to buying various things to donate to said cats.

Frank also likes orange juice, pancakes, and hot dogs. They're very weird to him, hot dogs. Just long pieces of various meats shoved together. Yet... they were so good. 

However, he did not like full moons. 

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  • (Hi! This is a generic message I'm sending to everyone I found on my friends list I'm not actively talking with and can't remember plotting with. Before I clean the list out, I figured I'd send out a signal and ask if you'd like to plot, write, or just hang around to do so in the future. If you get this message late and I've removed you, you are more than welcome to add me again. I'm just cleaning house. Cheers!)

  • The pilot could only raise his eyebrows at all the questions the man had asked him all in one go. He wasn't in the least offended, nor did he feel any reason to shut down, so with a shrug of the shoulders and light laugh, he gives the man the answers he wanted. 

    "Well, let's see.. I was born in Guatemala but raised in Miami, Florida. So i'm Guatemalan, Cuban and all that, so hence that darker skin.  I don't purposely tan, but I can if exposed long enough. " Another light laugh after taking another drag off his cigarette and exhaling the smoke into the air and purposely aimed away from Frank. He's considerate. 

    The guy was maybe a little eccentric, sure, but nothing Poe wasn't willing to handle it seemed. 

    " Cats don't seem to much like me no matter what I do. " Another chuff of amusement.  " He's a chinook and I couldn't bring him because my current job wouldn't exactly allow it. "  You could bet that wasn't always an issue with him, bringing BB with him any chance he had, but some missions were more complex than others. Fortunate for Frank too, Poe was willing to let his rambles go about the whole stalking thing with more laughter. This guy was pretty laid back it seemed and not too worried. 

    " Ah. Well, then guess we'll just have to find fun things to do the old fashion way. " A grin is given. 

  • "Well my whole name is Poe Dameron if ya wanna know. " The pilot grinned at the other man and even if it was frank in fact being rude, it doesn't seem to have any real effect on Poe either way, but he'd picked up on the actual curiosity.  It would seem Frank was still the only of his kind though, for Poe Dameron has only lived one life and he's still living it now. 

    Both eyebrows raised when the man spoke of cats. He can't say they were exactly his type of companion, and certainly not over his own, who he of course would mention because the dog was pretty much his best friend. 

    " I'm more of a dog kinda guy. Got one named BB. I couldn't bring him here, but he's usually always at my side. Love that dog to pieces. " He says and it's clear to the truth of his words. You can bet the dog probably got spoiled by him often. 

    "So, you being from around here. There anything fun to do here?" 

  • Rudeness was reserved for those who deserved it. Frank didn't. At least, not in this moment anyways. Poe could very well fire back sometimes, in a more clever way usually, but it's not something he put out there for nothing. It needed a reason and there was no reason for it here. So he's his usual all smiling self. 

    " Fair enough. "  With a single nod, Poe started to head towards the back door. He grins to himself while Frank states about his lack of a middle name and last name. He's not sure why the man was pointing that out, but he's good natured enough to go with it and not even question the man and his methods behind that. 

    "Well Frank no middle name and no last name, call me Poe. " He's teasing, but it's all in good nature still and not at all in a insulting way.  Opening the door, he steps aside to let Frank out first and when the man passed, he'd follow and start reaching within his jacket to fish around for the pack of cigarettes he carried. Poe wasn't exactly a hard core smoker, this pack having lasted him almost a month now. He might have been worse when he was younger and he might even get off them fully in some time.  

    The air out here was a snap of cold, but it was certainly refreshing from the stuffy heat of the bar. Poe embraced it with a sigh. Next, he looked Franks way again and spoke around the cigarette while lighting it when he'd finally found the pack and lighter.

    " So, you from around here? " 

  • Poe's grip had been a bit gentler, but firm enough to catch the guy before he could end up falling over if he had. He'd of felt like shit if the guy had gone down face first.  In this moment of their closeness, he gets a hint of the cinnamon, but then the man is pulling away so fast and of course Poe let's go, content enough that the guy hadn't fallen at least. The guy seemed nervous, but for what reason Poe wasn't sure. maybe the guy was just awkward. 

    "Nah, that was my fault. " Then he chuckles as the man is now apologizing for babbling on, but honestly it didn't bother the pilot one bit. He has to chuckled and give the guys shoulder a pat,

    " you're fine man. Just glad you didn't eat the floor "  He grins a little playfully.  People were not Franks thing maybe, but it seemed Poe was out there enough that be called a people kind of person. Sociable and kind while stubborn and determined in other parts. A good combination you might say.

    There's that awkward moment where the guy doesn't move on like Poe assumed he would, but rather than finding that odd, he just maneuvers around it.  He knows how to adapt when he needs to.

    " You smoke? Was just about head out for one real quick if you wanna join?" 

  • What better way to end the day than with one of Juliette’s infamous hot chocolates topped with a healthy serving of whipped cream, milk chocolate shavings and a drizzle of the finest Canadian syrup in all of, well, Canada. That tiny diner was one of the finest in all of BC, and with all the business conventions currently being held in the area, there was no reason not to expect all the fantastical business men and women to help themselves to a booth or table and settle for some of Canada’s best.

    Tennessee Walker. Tall, dark and handsome with a killer jawline and eyes that smoldered. A local to the area and one of Juliette’s regulars. Heck, the man had his own booth reserved and everything. Dressed to the nine in his usual flattering attire; thick black denim jeans, a crisp, long-sleeved button-down with the sleeves bunched at his elbows and an accompanying pair of patent dress shoes. A light smattering of cologne to complete the ensemble and the man was sex on legs.

    The bell rang as a broad hand pushed open the door, long legs carrying the male into the diner with a confident stride and just the slightest hint of an arrogant air about him. A few eyes glanced up from their plates and cups, as most nosy people did when someone they’ve never seen enters an establishment, a few women exhaled sharply and of course, men glowered. But he cared little for such nuances. A flick of a wave towards the red-faced woman behind the counter and Tennessee takes his usual seat. A table nearest to the diner’s front window.

    A thin-waisted waitress came skedaddling over with her notepad and pen. She smelled of fryer grease, bacon and coffee. A not so complimentary scent to such a pretty face. “What can I getcha, doll?”

    A flick of those rich gingerbread hues is given, a cocky grin slanting the curve of Tennessee’s lips as he propped his elbows on the edge of the table and leaned forward, pretending to get a much better look at the young woman. Tilting his countenance, he waited a moment, listening as the beating of the waitress’s heart increased to an erratic thump against her rib cage. What a glorious sound that was, and to see the way her unblemished skin flushed taffy pink when he spoke.

    “Juliette’s specialty pancake stack, extra bacon, ice cream and plenty of maple syrup. Please and thank you.”

  • Returning back to one of the base', stepping into fresh snow filled him with a odd sense of excitement. He's pulled missions in frosty conditions plenty of times, but being back here and with some free time on hand was like a breath of fresh air. Cold, icy air that caused his breath to come out like smoke. He laughs a little to himself, watching his own breath fade before he continued on to the base.  He was missing his companion, but they wouldn't be reunited here.  He was here for some brief downtime while he waited for something to fall in place before he acted on his next mission. he didn't even have to worry about raking in some intel for once, but he couldn't exactly go far either, so here he was. 

    After a change of clothes and a hot shower, while walking the halls back to what would be his bunker for now, he overhears some other soldiers mentioning going out for a drink and feels delighted that, yes, a drink sounded great. Not like he had much else of anything to do tonight. 

    By the time that Frank had parted from his group, Poe had already been there for some time, sitting at the end of the bar, closest to the back doors, sometimes drifting his attention to the tv mounted above showing some soccer game, the music and occasional loud voices in the background and sometimes the other soldiers who were sat a few down and told stories amongst themselves.  Sometimes it all blurred into one and made his head spin in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. He's had what.. four beers? Not nearly enough to cause anything incapacitating to the mind, but a very mild buzz. He's itching for a smoke though and thinks braving the cold would be worth it, so with that, he get's up and turns only to bump into someone else.

    " Oh. My bad, man. " Is his apology, as he held out a hand as though to brace the other in case he jarred him too much. 

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