it's called punk, punk

Francis Horowitz ; 22 Her philosophy is carpe diem for herself, and laissez-faire for others.

[frankowitz]

noah.

Woodz: Well, thank you.

Woodz: I tried so, A for effort?

FRANKIE: sure ! a for effort ! FRANKIE: let’s go with that

[frankowitz]

noah.

Woodz: Yay or nay?

Woodz: Feeling indecisive today.

FRANKIE: complete transparency? FRANKIE: u look like a fuckboi noah

[frankowitz]

oscar.

Maybe he should’ve seen how her eyes seemed to notice that his wouldn’t, how they trailed further than him and anything in the room but Oscar naively and rarely ever paid attention to such things. What he saw now that the girl looked back at him was a friendly face in a place where, maybe, he needed one. There was no reason for him to be in a bar; he didn’t really drink despite now being legally allowed to and far from home he lost his sense of belonging in the crowd. Approaching her was like his Hail Mary at the beginning of the night, easing Oscar off of the immediate desire to get the fuck out of here and hide out in East Manhattan. “It’s a big city. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody from the Factory outside of it. Besides the people I already knew, that is.”, he retorted, smiling with slightly nervous energy although talking to strangers should’ve become his forte after two years of doing little else. 

“really?” frankie asked, incredulously, as if it were by some miracle or fate that they were meeting in this shabby east williamsburg dive bar on that night. of course, frankie hadn’t seen many people from the factory outside of it either, but in her momentary state of bliss the thought of all of it was remarkable. “you know what they say,” she shrugged, a giggle escaping past her lips. she was having trouble keeping her eyes focused on one place, but she tried her best to focus her gaze on the boy in front of her. “big city, small world. do they say that? or did i just make it up? oh my god,” another giggle as she leaned toward him, nudging him with her shoulder, “i’m like a genius or something.”

[frankowitz]

cassidy.

cassie you know, i MIGHT join you cassie not all the time but like cassie who feels like going home when this place is perfect for sleepovers :P

FRANKIE: i know right!!! FRANKIE: everything u need is right here  FRANKIE: booze, art, beds, boys, girls 

[frankowitz]

sasha.

Sasha raised a brow, holding her cold stare on the blonde as if she were waiting for her to confirm that ‘you were talking loud’ was her final answer. “Is lying like… a new thing for you?” Sasha’s eyes wandered over to the skyline again, going silent for a moment as she propped a cigarette between her lips. “Because you aren’t very good at it.” she mumbled around the filter as she rummaged through her pockets. She found nothing, of course.

“Got a light, nosy?”

“no,” frankie furrowed her brow — some distant part of her was offended at the comment, she was a great liar thank you very much, but she was too far gone in the thoughts of her own head to really pay mind to it. maybe she was better at it when she was sober. “um,” the blonde pat down her hips, then her back pockets, smiled as she produced the purple plastic bic lighter and held it out to the girl. “can i bum a smoke off you?” 

[frankowitz]

nate‌.

“we tend to share a brain, you and i.” he put hands in hers and pulled her up from her failed meditation, raising a brow in her direction. “alright, alright, alright.” nate said, laughing in the process. “i’m in. actually, should we bar hop or just stay there until we annoy the bartender?”

“dumb and dumber,” she replied in agreement as she tapped her nose twice with her index finger as if to say — right on the nose. “you know i love a good east village bar hop. as long as we can end up at one of those ukranian restaurants, i want pierogis.”

[frankowitz]

sasha.

If there was one thing Sasha appreciated about her new home at The Factory, it was the view of the Manhattan skyline from the rooftop. The end of summer made for a brisk evening, the street-lights like glitter reflecting off of the high-rises. It was so breathtaking she found herself occasionally forgetting where she was living instead of inside the cushy penthouse walls that were her previous stomping grounds. “I couldn’t make the audition, I told you I’m sick,” Sasha reassured her agent–– Jean of an obvious lie over the phone, drink in hand. She nodded as if she could see him through the screen, adding a throaty cough for theatrics. “Yeah, of course… I can do next week. I’ll kill it. Mhm. Bye-bye. Ciao.” It wasn’t a total lie, she figured. By the time she finished the bottle of tequila waiting for her on her nightstand, Sasha’d put money on the promise of being sick the next morning. She hit ‘end call’ quickly, barely allowing Jean to finish his final reminder that he was so proud of her for finally getting sober. When Sasha spun around on her heel (and far too fast, so much so that it gave her the spins) to leave the roof, she realized she wasn’t the only person who was currently appreciating the view, there was someone else barely five feet away from her. 

“Excuse me, that was a private conversation.”

Of course Frankie knew it wasn’t exactly polite to eavesdrop, but she always had a problem with never minding her own business. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that her business was a total mess, and it was easier getting involved in other people’s shit than dealing with her own. And that was what resulted in her unable to tear her eyes away from the girl on the phone — that, and she was so high out of her mind that she seemingly forgot how to act appropriately in a public setting. jaw hung slightly agape, she listened to the obvious lies the girl was telling whoever was on the other line and hardly even noticed she’d hung up the phone until they were facing one another and she was being spoken to. Even then, it took a moment longer than it should have for her to process that it was her the girl was speaking to. 

“Oh,” Frankie blinked, a wave of recognition washing over her as her eyes narrowed on the girl in front of her, “...sorry. You were talking kind of loud.”

[frankowitz]

walter‌.

“ no dad, i’m not struggling with money and i am having steady income with my two jobs and i’d really like to ask if all you called me for is just to shit on me because you’re bored, “ wally grumbled. there is a pause while his dad speaks from the other line- and wally’s eyebrows furrow a bit more. “ no, i can’t have dinner with you on that day, i have a rehearsal. “ he clicks off his phone, putting it back into his pocket. he sits down on a bench in the factory’s garden, covering his face with both his hands. wally lets out a muffled growl before he runs his fingers through his hair. 

frankie couldn’t help but overhear part of the conversation going on with the man and, apparently, his father on the other line. always a girl of unruly curiosity, she pursed her lips as she listened to his half of the phone call, even as the voice in the back of her head said it wasn’t quite appropriate. “so, no head?” she asked the man sitting down — a stupid joke, really, but his frustration after putting his phone away reminded her of the viral video. “you all good, man?”

[frankowitz]

oscar.

How he managed to still find himself in socially awkward situations despite years of conditioning and ‘training’ so to say was a miracle to even Oscar himself. But the thing was, this here, this was a whole other part of town– East Williamsburg, to be exact– and he didn’t consider everyone that he had fleetingly met at the Factory his friend. Still, it was somehow rare that he’d see and recognize someone outside of his inner circle and didn’t cringe at the realization that maybe he’d have to talk to them in the near future.  There were exactly two options open to him: ignore them and find some other place to hang around immediately or do something; and as time ran by while his eyes didn’t divert from them, option one grew further and further away. If the desire was to not to be a staring weirdo, that was. “Hi. Funny seeing you here.” There it finally was– his greeting that just had to be accompanied by an odd little wave. 

as usual, frankie wasn’t exactly sure how she’d ended up in brooklyn. she’d been in chelsea, took some shrooms, vaguely remembered getting on the L — and suddenly she was at a bar in brooklyn with only one person she knew — and she’d seemingly lost them too. the drugs were starting to hit, and with the dimly lit bar allowing her imagination to take over for the areas she couldn’t see, she was beginning to realize that she was tripping...hard. Her eyes widened as they wandered over the bartop, the floor, the wall covered in band stickers — and then a boy. a familiar looking boy, but one she was pretty sure was staring at her. or was she being paranoid? she furrowed her eyebrows, then looked away, but after just a moment (it felt like she’d waited ten minutes) she looked back. this time, he had a look on his face — like he knew who she was. “oh, hi!” she grinned widely, “i knew i recognized you!” 

[frankowitz]

cassidy.

the factory group chat

cassie i think i’m starting to see why my brother loves this place so much cassie it is pretty epic to be honest

frankie: i literally never leave frankie: i think it’s becoming a problem??? frankie: MIGHT become a squatter tbh

[frankowitz]

vivian.

          frankie and vivian were nothing alike and it was blatantly obvious that the two probably wouldn’t have gotten along in high school  ;  when the world revolved around similarity and  cliques  .  that was the  beauty  of growing up  ,  finding out that your place didn’t necessarily have to be written out for you  .  that the people who once didn’t make sense with you  ,  fit you better than your favorite sweater  .  it was a certain type of  balance  that everyone needed  .  “  my spidey senses were  tingling  .  ”  she joked  ,  placing the syrup in front of the blonde  .  a brow quirked as her question lingered  ;  vivian was a morning bird  ,  that much she knew  ,  but when the sun rose on this  certain  morning she was even moreso  .  despite how incredibly  late  she had gone to sleep the previous night  .  “  me ?  ”  she asked  ,  feigning disbelief before plucking a pancake of her own and plopping it onto her own plate  .  “  i don’t know  ,  i just had a good  night  i guess  .  ”

“Thaaaank you,” Frankie said in a sing-song voice as she took the syrup, pouring it onto the pancake she’d picked up and attempting not to drip any on the floor — far too lazy to grab a plate from the cupboard. “Ooh, a good night, huh?” Frankie asked, waggling her brows at her before licking some syrup that had begun dribbling down her finger. “Any particular reason? Any particular boy?”

[frankowitz]

nate‌.

nate leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he waited for her meditation to be done. he could only imagine it wouldn’t last that long and he was proven correct. “you know what cures a hangover?” he took a few steps forward, looking down at the blonde. “more alcohol.”

“Why do you always read my mind?” Frankie asked, a coy smile on her lips as she reached her hands up toward him, her nonverbal way of asking for him to help her up. “Plus, I heard there’s a cool new bar on Second Ave. Apparently Matthew Mcconaughey went last week. You in?”

[frankowitz]

ivy‌.

ivy was mindlessly walking around the factory, quietly humming a random song to herself but stopped in front of the bedroom when she heard someone talk. she turned to the side and smiled when she saw a girl upset at her hangover. “have you tried the whole cold shower method? it’s terrible but apparently it works.” she smiled

“Actually yes —” Frankie replied with a sigh. Though she hadn’t actually tried it this time, it had been an attempt in the past. And it, in fact, had only made her more miserable. “But I can’t handle it. The only cold I can deal with is cryotherapy,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’m beginning to think I should just go drink more, that usually does the trick doesn’t it?”

[frankowitz]

morrigan.

For once in her life, Morrigan was out and about before noon. It was practically a miracle, but there were things to sort out… and her dad had put a cap on how often she was allowed to just call a PA to to things for her, in the name of independence or whatever. As if she was still 13. She was cursing about the great injustice all the way into the factory bedroom. She wasn’t expecting to find anyone there, and that seemed to be mutual. “Did you try eating raw Cheerios? I heard that helps,” she replied as she began a tour around the room, her focus more on that than on Frankie, “Did you see a bag? My bag. Can’t find it.”

She peaked her eyes open to find where the recommendation came from, then scrunched her nose. “No,” she replied, though Mog was known to have some good advice for her every now and again. It might actually be worth a try. “And also no,” she added, shrugging her shoulders as she looked around the room. “You left it in The Factory?”

[factoryrpg-blog]

— drunken compliments in the girl’s bathroom, shimmering pink lipgloss, a wide smile paired with sad eyes

here’s the scoop:

22 years old female who goes by she/her works as a sugar baby and/or unemployed portrayed by virginia gardner

[frankowitz]

open to: everyone location: factory bedroom time: 10:45 AM, saturday

cross-legged, airpods nestled into her ears, eyes closed, and head pounding with a raging hangover from the night before, frankie sat on a yoga mat and tried her best to focus on her breathing as the meditation instructor spoke through her headphones. after about four minutes of the inability to clear her mind — she finally let out a sigh all but ripped the airpods out of her ears and opened her eyes. “okay, nothing is going to cure this hangover. i give up.”

[frankowitz]

vivian.

LOCATION :  kitchen ,  TIME :  8:43 AM

          the batter was  neverending  .  she hadn’t intended to make this many pancakes  ,  in fact  ,  there were probably enough here to feed the entire factory  twice  .  perhaps she had used a  bit  too much  ;  though  ,  she was nearly  certain  that they would get gobbled up within  no time  .  she had just finished cleaning up her mess  ,  an unnoticed speck of flour on her nose that proved her part in the enormous stack of pancakes  .  her attention raised as frankie entered the natural lighting  ,  a smile curving her lips upwards  .  “  i was hoping you stayed the night !  ”  she beamed  ,  “  i also hope you’re hungry because …  ”  she trailed off  ,  her eyes adverting towards the filled plate that rested on the counter  .  “  i got a little  pancake crazy  this morning  .  ”  @frankowitz

frankie all but stumbled into the factory kitchen that morning, her hair pulled up into a messy bun, her eyeliner smudged around her eyes from the night before, wearing just a large t-shirt that barely fell below her ass — she wasn’t quite sure who it belonged to, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t hers. she’d come to the kitchen in search of coffee, but was met with the smell of fresh pancakes, thankful to find that the chef was someone she knew. it meant she didn’t have to slyly ask for some. “starved,” she grinned, “thanks. it’s like you knew i’d need carbs this morning.” she said as she picked a pancake off the plate, ripped off a piece with her fingers, and stuck it in her mouth. “i feel like shit. why do you look so perky this morning?”