Frankie Dalton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
never_very_good) wrote2009-04-28 03:45 pm
never_very_good) wrote2009-04-28 03:45 pm
Entry tags:
]|☾|[ a p p l i c a t i o n ;
[series]: Daybreakers
[character]: Frankie Dalton
[character history / background]: The wiki covers it pretty solidly, though I disagree with the assertion that Frankie's just a member of Bromley Marks' security team-- it seemed more like there was a relationship between the corporation and the military. Gosh, that crazy science fiction.
Also, mostly for the purposes of defining the universe-specific terminology used below:
Vampires in Daybreakers have an average body temperature of about 60° fahrenheit; no heartbeat or pulse, and no reflection. They do not age, seem to have some slight regenerative capabilities, and (of course,) they need blood. They are capable of getting by on nonhuman blood, and are able to eat regular food-- they just get their Starbucks lattes with a shot of O negative instead of caramel. They burn when they come into contact with sunlight, due to the virus' reaction to ultraviolet light. Staking one through the heart is (unsurprisingly) fatal and will make the vampire explode.
Deprived of blood, the vampirism virus begins to mutate, ultimately turning the individual into what is commonly known as a "subsider." The first physical deformation is the elongation and sharpening of the ears; after that, hair loss, general sharpening of the features, and elongation and reshaping of the hands and arms into wing-like appendages. Subsiders are bat-like, nonrational, and extremely strong. A decrease in seratonin levels in the brain leads to aggressive behavior, and they will do just about anything in search of blood. Feeding on other vampires (or even on themselves) speeds up the rate of mutation; it can take only a couple of weeks for a perfectly healthy vampire to become an animalistic subsider.
[character abilities]: Alas, Frankie is human again, which means no neato vampire perks of superhuman badassery. He is, however, a fairly competent soldier, decently strong and good with a variety of weapons, experienced in combat. By and large he's used to opponents who are weaker than he is, but he's also done riot control and faced off against subsiders, so he could likely hold his own in most fights.
Perhaps most important, though, is a note on his blood. One of the side-effects of being returned to mortality is an immunity to vampirism. In addition, treated vampire blood acts as a cure for vampirism (at least of the Daybreakers variety,) and if ingested it will turn his attacker back into a human. Obviously what with the whole interdimensionality thing, that won't hold entirely true in the City. For the purposes of the game, I speculate that overall his immunity would persist, and that he'd at least be unappetizing to Citizens of the blood-drinking persuasion.
I also think that potentially, it could work as a cure for vampires whose canon mechanics are similar to the film-- those whose undead state is the result of an infection transmitted by biting. Of course that would be a matter of mun plotting and consent-- and, if necessary, mod-approval, because obviously that would be sort of a major change for characters. If this is a problem, though, I am more than happy to discuss and modify it.
[character personality]:
By his own admission, Frankie was "never very good at being human"-- somewhat aimless and lacking in ambition, he both admires and resents his older brother's dedication and success. It's not that he's lazy, so much as that he lacks motivation. Presented with a task, he'll work to accomplish it; left to his own devices, he has no clue what to do with himself.
He can be a bit childish; argumentative and hot-tempered, easily frustrated when things aren't going his way. By and large he has this under control-- something to be said for military discipline-- but in more personal situations he is still a bit prone to flying off the handle.
He has a deep-seated need for validation, which he never wants anyone to know about. This is tied to the fact that he sees himself as kind of a screwup; Frankie's constantly trying to prove himself. Mostly to Ed, because really, who else does he have around to validate him. Unfortunately it doesn't generally work out. He saves his brother's life, but Ed resents him for it. He tries to do Bromley a favor, and ends up turning a healthy young woman into a subsider. And then helps execute her. Suffice it to say, the validation he wants, he does not get. Which is why, when he's offered the chance to redeem himself by saving Ed and Audrey at the cost of his own life, he does-- it's a chance to fix his mistakes, to do something right, for once.
In his own mixed-up way he does have a strong sense of right and wrong; and ultimately, especially at the point I'm taking him from, he can't really subjugate his conscience to his duty. It isn't that Frankie doesn't want to do the right thing-- he just isn't always sure what that is. For example, joining up with military seemed right at the time; being a vampire meant he needed blood, joining up meant being helpful to himself and others, and he could feel validated. But watching the subsider executions-- seeing his fellow soldiers snarling and cheering at the deaths of, essentially, people whose only crime was starving-- he could no longer turn a blind eye to how wrong he'd gone.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: Just prior to being torn apart and eaten.
[journal post]:
So I guess if I'm stuck here, I should make something of myself. A job seems like a good place to start. I'm good at... [A pause, as though he hasn't considered the rest of that sentence until just now.] Well, I was a soldier, at home; I guess there's no army, here. Not sure I'd want to join if there was. I don't know, I pick things up pretty quick. So I guess, if someone's hiring, I'd try just about anything.
And I could use a place to live, if someone's looking for a roommate.
Somewhere with big windows that get a lot of sun would be nice.
[third person / log sample]:
He recognized her right away, in spite of the mutations, the grotesque contortion of her face and limbs. Most of the subsiders were too far gone to display any impulse more rational than a lust for blood and an aversion to the burn of sunlight; but Alison Bromley was just starting her degeneration. It surprised him that she was here at all-- he'd half expected that if she wouldn't eat, her father would keep her locked up somewhere. He imagined her sedated, force-fed in the hopes of staving off the transformation-- buying a little time to find some way to reverse the unchecked mutation that was robbing her of who she had been.
Even now there was something in her eyes that suggested she hadn't disappeared, yet. The others screeched and clawed as they were fastened into place behind the trucks that would drag them to their deaths, clumsy webbed fingers buffeting the soldiers' riot armor. It would be easy to write her off as one of them, grabbing at her captors from an animal desire for freedom. Frankie couldn't accept the easy lie. You did this, she accused, as clearly as though she'd spoken. He could see the faint shadows still of the terrified and protesting girl he'd changed, high on duty and hunger. His mouth was sour, remembering how good it had been to roll her taste across his tongue as she shuddered on the floor, wiping his lips with the back of his hand like a child. At the time he'd let himself think it was the right thing to do-- he was saving her from her human fate, from being farmed or killed or, at best, forced to live in terror until someone caught her again.
The trucks started their procession, slowed by the weight behind them, dozens of clawed feet scrabbling at the pavement. The prisoners burst into flame with startling suddenness, long limbs flailing hopelessly through the air as they were consumed. Sparks and shreds of flesh and ash fluttered grotesquely in the breeze.
Alison Bromley burned last, inches from him. The golden daylight poured over and into her, casting sharp shadows of her skull, her jaws wide in a howling scream. Her gaze pierced him long after her eyes had gone to ash, even as he turned to see his fellow soldiers cheering at the destruction. The chains that had held the subsiders in place fell with no one to support them, dragging through piles of ash and blackened chunks of bone, heavy collars ringing against the cement.
Frankie looked at the ragged ears and dull eyes all around him. Everyone was starving; the difference between the men around him and the subsiders was shrinking every day, along with their rations. For a moment he couldn't recognize any of them, seeing only naked, squealing monstrosities, voracious and animalistic. Seeing Alison go up in flames again, the image burned into his brain.
Though he'd boasted to Ed about the perks that came along with his duties, they weren't why Frankie had joined the army. He'd wanted, for once in his life, to do something worthwhile-- something he could be proud of. He'd wanted to serve his country; performing a sometimes ugly but wholly necessary task. Providing a source of food. Keeping defenseless citizens safe from subsider attacks. Making people's lives better.
This wasn't what he'd bargained for. With a suddenness that left him reeling, half tempted to cross the last steps of shadow into the glare of day, he understood every objection Ed had ever voiced. Alison had thought him a monster. She'd been right-- even now his body ached for fresh blood, some sick and irrational part of him wishing she stood before him again, warm and defenseless and ripe. He felt sick.
He had to find his brother.
[character]: Frankie Dalton
[character history / background]: The wiki covers it pretty solidly, though I disagree with the assertion that Frankie's just a member of Bromley Marks' security team-- it seemed more like there was a relationship between the corporation and the military. Gosh, that crazy science fiction.
Also, mostly for the purposes of defining the universe-specific terminology used below:
Vampires in Daybreakers have an average body temperature of about 60° fahrenheit; no heartbeat or pulse, and no reflection. They do not age, seem to have some slight regenerative capabilities, and (of course,) they need blood. They are capable of getting by on nonhuman blood, and are able to eat regular food-- they just get their Starbucks lattes with a shot of O negative instead of caramel. They burn when they come into contact with sunlight, due to the virus' reaction to ultraviolet light. Staking one through the heart is (unsurprisingly) fatal and will make the vampire explode.
Deprived of blood, the vampirism virus begins to mutate, ultimately turning the individual into what is commonly known as a "subsider." The first physical deformation is the elongation and sharpening of the ears; after that, hair loss, general sharpening of the features, and elongation and reshaping of the hands and arms into wing-like appendages. Subsiders are bat-like, nonrational, and extremely strong. A decrease in seratonin levels in the brain leads to aggressive behavior, and they will do just about anything in search of blood. Feeding on other vampires (or even on themselves) speeds up the rate of mutation; it can take only a couple of weeks for a perfectly healthy vampire to become an animalistic subsider.
[character abilities]: Alas, Frankie is human again, which means no neato vampire perks of superhuman badassery. He is, however, a fairly competent soldier, decently strong and good with a variety of weapons, experienced in combat. By and large he's used to opponents who are weaker than he is, but he's also done riot control and faced off against subsiders, so he could likely hold his own in most fights.
Perhaps most important, though, is a note on his blood. One of the side-effects of being returned to mortality is an immunity to vampirism. In addition, treated vampire blood acts as a cure for vampirism (at least of the Daybreakers variety,) and if ingested it will turn his attacker back into a human. Obviously what with the whole interdimensionality thing, that won't hold entirely true in the City. For the purposes of the game, I speculate that overall his immunity would persist, and that he'd at least be unappetizing to Citizens of the blood-drinking persuasion.
I also think that potentially, it could work as a cure for vampires whose canon mechanics are similar to the film-- those whose undead state is the result of an infection transmitted by biting. Of course that would be a matter of mun plotting and consent-- and, if necessary, mod-approval, because obviously that would be sort of a major change for characters. If this is a problem, though, I am more than happy to discuss and modify it.
[character personality]:
By his own admission, Frankie was "never very good at being human"-- somewhat aimless and lacking in ambition, he both admires and resents his older brother's dedication and success. It's not that he's lazy, so much as that he lacks motivation. Presented with a task, he'll work to accomplish it; left to his own devices, he has no clue what to do with himself.
He can be a bit childish; argumentative and hot-tempered, easily frustrated when things aren't going his way. By and large he has this under control-- something to be said for military discipline-- but in more personal situations he is still a bit prone to flying off the handle.
He has a deep-seated need for validation, which he never wants anyone to know about. This is tied to the fact that he sees himself as kind of a screwup; Frankie's constantly trying to prove himself. Mostly to Ed, because really, who else does he have around to validate him. Unfortunately it doesn't generally work out. He saves his brother's life, but Ed resents him for it. He tries to do Bromley a favor, and ends up turning a healthy young woman into a subsider. And then helps execute her. Suffice it to say, the validation he wants, he does not get. Which is why, when he's offered the chance to redeem himself by saving Ed and Audrey at the cost of his own life, he does-- it's a chance to fix his mistakes, to do something right, for once.
In his own mixed-up way he does have a strong sense of right and wrong; and ultimately, especially at the point I'm taking him from, he can't really subjugate his conscience to his duty. It isn't that Frankie doesn't want to do the right thing-- he just isn't always sure what that is. For example, joining up with military seemed right at the time; being a vampire meant he needed blood, joining up meant being helpful to himself and others, and he could feel validated. But watching the subsider executions-- seeing his fellow soldiers snarling and cheering at the deaths of, essentially, people whose only crime was starving-- he could no longer turn a blind eye to how wrong he'd gone.
[point in timeline you're picking your character from]: Just prior to being torn apart and eaten.
[journal post]:
So I guess if I'm stuck here, I should make something of myself. A job seems like a good place to start. I'm good at... [A pause, as though he hasn't considered the rest of that sentence until just now.] Well, I was a soldier, at home; I guess there's no army, here. Not sure I'd want to join if there was. I don't know, I pick things up pretty quick. So I guess, if someone's hiring, I'd try just about anything.
And I could use a place to live, if someone's looking for a roommate.
Somewhere with big windows that get a lot of sun would be nice.
[third person / log sample]:
He recognized her right away, in spite of the mutations, the grotesque contortion of her face and limbs. Most of the subsiders were too far gone to display any impulse more rational than a lust for blood and an aversion to the burn of sunlight; but Alison Bromley was just starting her degeneration. It surprised him that she was here at all-- he'd half expected that if she wouldn't eat, her father would keep her locked up somewhere. He imagined her sedated, force-fed in the hopes of staving off the transformation-- buying a little time to find some way to reverse the unchecked mutation that was robbing her of who she had been.
Even now there was something in her eyes that suggested she hadn't disappeared, yet. The others screeched and clawed as they were fastened into place behind the trucks that would drag them to their deaths, clumsy webbed fingers buffeting the soldiers' riot armor. It would be easy to write her off as one of them, grabbing at her captors from an animal desire for freedom. Frankie couldn't accept the easy lie. You did this, she accused, as clearly as though she'd spoken. He could see the faint shadows still of the terrified and protesting girl he'd changed, high on duty and hunger. His mouth was sour, remembering how good it had been to roll her taste across his tongue as she shuddered on the floor, wiping his lips with the back of his hand like a child. At the time he'd let himself think it was the right thing to do-- he was saving her from her human fate, from being farmed or killed or, at best, forced to live in terror until someone caught her again.
The trucks started their procession, slowed by the weight behind them, dozens of clawed feet scrabbling at the pavement. The prisoners burst into flame with startling suddenness, long limbs flailing hopelessly through the air as they were consumed. Sparks and shreds of flesh and ash fluttered grotesquely in the breeze.
Alison Bromley burned last, inches from him. The golden daylight poured over and into her, casting sharp shadows of her skull, her jaws wide in a howling scream. Her gaze pierced him long after her eyes had gone to ash, even as he turned to see his fellow soldiers cheering at the destruction. The chains that had held the subsiders in place fell with no one to support them, dragging through piles of ash and blackened chunks of bone, heavy collars ringing against the cement.
Frankie looked at the ragged ears and dull eyes all around him. Everyone was starving; the difference between the men around him and the subsiders was shrinking every day, along with their rations. For a moment he couldn't recognize any of them, seeing only naked, squealing monstrosities, voracious and animalistic. Seeing Alison go up in flames again, the image burned into his brain.
Though he'd boasted to Ed about the perks that came along with his duties, they weren't why Frankie had joined the army. He'd wanted, for once in his life, to do something worthwhile-- something he could be proud of. He'd wanted to serve his country; performing a sometimes ugly but wholly necessary task. Providing a source of food. Keeping defenseless citizens safe from subsider attacks. Making people's lives better.
This wasn't what he'd bargained for. With a suddenness that left him reeling, half tempted to cross the last steps of shadow into the glare of day, he understood every objection Ed had ever voiced. Alison had thought him a monster. She'd been right-- even now his body ached for fresh blood, some sick and irrational part of him wishing she stood before him again, warm and defenseless and ripe. He felt sick.
He had to find his brother.