Lord WyronFrankie Cabrera
{ “The best medic is the one you run to and can't find.” }
- General Characteristics -
| {Full Name} |
Francesca (pronounced: Fran-Chess-Ka) Cabrera
| {Nickname/Callsign} |
”Frankie”, “Fran” (which she hates), “Doc” or “Sticks” (mainly due to her petite frame)
| {Age} |
Nineteen
| {Gender} |
Female
| {Appearance} |
Standing at just under five feet, Frankie doesn’t mind the fact that her smaller, petite stature keeps her hidden in plain sight and being rather on the androgynous side, she leans toward gender neutral and simple wardrobes, especially those that don’t draw unwanted attention. She keeps her dark hair short most of the time, except during those hot months where she may shave her head completely just so she doesn’t have to fuss with it.
- Psychological Profile -
| {Personality} |
For the most part, she is quite introverted, and tends to keep her distance from social engagements as much as possible, unless it is with close friends she trusts. Some see her as rather quirky at times, and others are just confused by her appearance, as those who may not know her that well, aren’t sure if she is a girl or boy. Relationships were few and far between, but that’s how she liked it, not allowing others to get too close and keeping herself busy enough not to worry about such things.
| {Fears/Limitations} |
Growing up and living in a society that just seemed borderline unstable and insane, not much really phased the young girl, and being exposed to her fair share of blood and broken body parts steeled her mind to a lot of the weird happenings of the world. However, she still feared her own skills, especially when so many of her community relied on people within the medical field not to screw anything up. Self-consciousness was always something that haunted her, and while she cared very little about what people said (they were only words, right?), there were times when she just wanted to hide away somewhere aways from everyone and everything. She found herself, from time to time, thinking about her family and still had no idea of their welfare.
| {Place of Origin} |
Born and raised in a settlement just outside of what was once Boston, she had rarely ventured far from her dwelling until the raiders came, where she was forced to move from one settlement to another.
| {Background} |
Growing up as an only child within a relatively large settlement seemed to put more pressure on her than she’d expected, especially when it came down to her mother and father passing the “medical torch” to their kid. Of course the only problem with that was Frankie didn’t want anything to do with it. At an early age, she’d loved architecture and building, admiring the old steel, glass, and stone structures in and around the settlement, hoping to one day become a builder herself. When not going through the typical academics of school as well as medical training and apprenticeship, she would escape onto vacant rooftops or the confines of some shelled out building, spending hours drawing up mock plans of structures that she dreamed could make things better for the community. However, her parents had a different path for her to travel, and basically laid down one guilt trip after another on the last of their bloodline until she’d caved and decided to become an apprentice to her father, who was unfortunately falling into serious illness himself from years of smoking unfiltered tobacco.
Several months had gone by, and while tirelessly studying to become a medic wasn’t taxing enough, her father had passed away in the night after battling emphysema, leaving a rift in the girl’s heart that not even her mother could heal right away. The irony of fixing everyone else, was that she found it the most difficult to fix her own issues, but fortunately friends within the community came together to help as best they could.
If there hadn’t been enough salt rubbed into the proverbial wound of life, raider attacks had become much more common as the settlement was essentially being scouted for months by those who wanted that they had, especially those citizens who were well versed in medicine and the like. What followed was an ugly scenario, needless to say, and the raiders seemed to have no problem putting a bullet in the heads of those who didn’t comply with their way of things. Sadly, even though who were there to protect the settlement ended up defecting for promises of a “better life” with the savage raiders. Because of her medical background, Frankie had been one of the unfortunate to be taken back to one of the raider encampments deep inside an old satellite base only to be put to work stitching up people she didn’t even know, and didn't’ care to know. There, she’d met her first ghoul -actually many of them- and it was something she’d only heard of but never met in person. But as timed passed, fear was replaced with a resolve to just do what she was put there to do, help those who couldn't help themselves.
For the next several years, going into the tail-end of her teenage years, Frankie found herself moving from one raider camp to another, very rarely sticking around for long until transplanted once again. She was also challenged on a daily basis to push her skills even further, which was a curse and a blessing all at once. She missed her family, and yet feared she would never see them again, even accepted it the more days went by without even a hint of their still being alive. The raiders, however, seemed to enjoy the girl’s company, and saw her as a boon more than anything else, and to show their own twisted gratitude, they essentially taught her how to fight dirty, and use a firearm when she really needed to make a point. While their tactics were something she had been unaccustomed to, the fact that she at least learned how to defend herself helped to grow her own confidence. Of course, she still kept the idea of escaping in the forefront of her mind, but it was just a matter of when and how.
Several months had gone by, and while tirelessly studying to become a medic wasn’t taxing enough, her father had passed away in the night after battling emphysema, leaving a rift in the girl’s heart that not even her mother could heal right away. The irony of fixing everyone else, was that she found it the most difficult to fix her own issues, but fortunately friends within the community came together to help as best they could.
If there hadn’t been enough salt rubbed into the proverbial wound of life, raider attacks had become much more common as the settlement was essentially being scouted for months by those who wanted that they had, especially those citizens who were well versed in medicine and the like. What followed was an ugly scenario, needless to say, and the raiders seemed to have no problem putting a bullet in the heads of those who didn’t comply with their way of things. Sadly, even though who were there to protect the settlement ended up defecting for promises of a “better life” with the savage raiders. Because of her medical background, Frankie had been one of the unfortunate to be taken back to one of the raider encampments deep inside an old satellite base only to be put to work stitching up people she didn’t even know, and didn't’ care to know. There, she’d met her first ghoul -actually many of them- and it was something she’d only heard of but never met in person. But as timed passed, fear was replaced with a resolve to just do what she was put there to do, help those who couldn't help themselves.
For the next several years, going into the tail-end of her teenage years, Frankie found herself moving from one raider camp to another, very rarely sticking around for long until transplanted once again. She was also challenged on a daily basis to push her skills even further, which was a curse and a blessing all at once. She missed her family, and yet feared she would never see them again, even accepted it the more days went by without even a hint of their still being alive. The raiders, however, seemed to enjoy the girl’s company, and saw her as a boon more than anything else, and to show their own twisted gratitude, they essentially taught her how to fight dirty, and use a firearm when she really needed to make a point. While their tactics were something she had been unaccustomed to, the fact that she at least learned how to defend herself helped to grow her own confidence. Of course, she still kept the idea of escaping in the forefront of her mind, but it was just a matter of when and how.
- Survival Characteristics -
| {Non-Combat Skills} |
General Practice Physician, Triage, Field medic, and herbalist. She is also quite adept at drawing and painting, as well as stretching exercises and Yoga to balance the body and mind.
| {Possessions} |
Since being taken from her home, Frankie doesn’t own much these days that isn’t essential to her every day work life.
| {Combat Skills} |
Those few years living within the Raider’s community has given her a better understanding of combat and field medicine, and allowed her to quickly and efficiently diagnose and treat a wide array of wounds. In addition, she has both hand-to-hand combat experience and firearm training, which is just enough to make her dangerous.
| {Gear} |
A pretty good assortment of (stolen) medical tools, gauze, and fluids for sterilization and plasma replacement if needed. All neatly packed in their place in a study camo field medic backpack. When not out in the field, she tends to walk around with a leather shoulder bag filled with necessary medical equipment for “house calls”.
Aside from her "tools of the trade", she carries with her the always reliable (and slightly modified) 10mm handgun, as well as standard issue combat knife, and quarterstaff that she pretty much found on the side of the road.
Aside from her "tools of the trade", she carries with her the always reliable (and slightly modified) 10mm handgun, as well as standard issue combat knife, and quarterstaff that she pretty much found on the side of the road.
