Franz Bjorn Andersson

[Franz]

{F} r a n z  {B} j o r n  {A} n d e r s s o n

“I’m living in a womb of reefer, leave me alone.”



B a s i c s

{Age} 23 years

{Sex} Male

{Hair color} Rust hued

{Eye color} Dull grey-teal

{Height} 5’ 10” and scrawny like a twig

{Weight} 125 lbs with hardly any muscle

{Orientation} Demisexual

{Employment} N/A




P e r s o n a

{Traits} Chill, easy-going, apathetic, slacker, inhumanly lazy, easily amused, humorous

{Description} Franz is chill as a cucumber,dulled grey eyes have seen it all and most things don’t faze him anymore. A long time resident of the ‘Combs, he’s used to the out of the ordinary by now. Most find it hard to hold grudges against this amicable stoner just because of his lazy demeanor and sardonic outlook on life. He’s easygoing, easy to befriend, and hard to upset.

{Flaws} A total burnout who will amount to nothing, alcohol addiction, insomnia and a useless leg that’s always giving him trouble.

{Appearance} A wooden crutch (held together by duct tape) to keep him upright;
Wild unkempt hair and tired eyes ringed with the purple bags of grogginess.

{Clothing} A worn sweater, cable knitted and covered with sewn on patches. Black straight-leg jeans and ancient, tattered converse high tops. Rope bracelets on his left wrist. His shoelaces never seem to remain tied.




R e l a t i o n s h i p s

{Kin} None

{Infatuated with} None

{Committed to} None

{Father to} None

{Friend of} Annie, Marcus, Eliza, Gilbert, etc.



A   B r i e f   H i s t o r y

        The bastard son of a wayward drunkard, Franz was left on his own with his mother at an early age. Consumed by her workaholic lifestyle and bitterness toward her unwanted son, their squalid apartment and equally shitty existence only contributed to her eventual madness (And crazed attempt to gut her only child with a fork over a family dinner one night). Soon her instability proved her to be an unfit parent. Rather than face foster care, Franz ditched and tried to make it on his own. Keyword being “tried.” The closest he has ever gotten to a stable life were his attempts to gain a degree. With music his only distraction from misfortune at home, young Franz became a highly skilled violinist and was even accepted to a prestigious college for aspiring musicians. Yet, self sabotage was inevitable, and apathy gained him failing grades and lost him his spot in the university. Kicked out of school, he went on a job search and landed a position in a video rental store. During this time he somehow landed a girlfriend, too -Cheating bitch she was. Like every stage in his life, this new one was destined for failure; Dumped by his girlfriend, losing his job from discovered drug possession and facing eviction from his cramped apartment, Franz turned to borrowing money from a rather vengeful loanshark.

Next thing he knew he was deep in debt to the wrong sort of people and teetering on the edge of bankruptcy once more. Unable to pay his debts forward in time, Franz was cornered in an alley one night -after playing violin on a street corner for cash- and run down with his debtor’s car, resulting in the complete destruction of his precious violin, and the irreparable mangling of his right leg. He now carries a crutch, and a shard of his violin’s glossy wood in his pocket.



“ F u c k   i t .  S h i t   h a p p e n s. ”

Not willing to dwell on his own misfortune, Franz carried on in this ramshackle fashion, jumping from job to job and drowning in medical bills until the age of 23: When he finally gave up and found The Catacombs.

T h e m e
Forest Whitaker- Bad Books