Frank L. Write, The Mundane

## Appearance

Lanky, 40s, receding hair-line, workman's overalls, leather coat, FPI badge and baseball cap.

Work's a "regular" job inspecting foreclosed properties. Just ends up always getting the ones that are closed because of or taken over by, a monster.

Has a van, multitool, company hand-gun, and a tool/utility belt

## Backstory

> *--“Oh, like the architect? Are you related?”*
>
>

That was the 2nd most question Frank got in his life. It followed him and grew up with him.

“Ah, is the widdle guy gonna be an archy-tech when he gwows up?”

“Hey champ, want some legos for your birthday? Perfect for a soon-to-be architect!”

“Now Frank, you want to get your grades up if you want that kushy architect job, you know?”

“So, found any good architect colleges to join up with?”

Frank didn’t really mind it too much, as it was better than trying to figure out something for himself. He did find out though pretty quickly though that there *are* “good” architect colleges, and they were not in Amas, Iowa.

> *--“So, uh...what do you do?”*
>
>

The 3rd most asked question deserves it’s place as nothing in Franks demeanor or build would suggest anything in particular. The lanky frame serves as coat rack for the dark utility overalls, his waining frizzy hairline tucked underneath a matching baseball cap. Both having a “FPI” plastered on it with far too much seriousness. The utility-belt he wears seems to indicate a variety of different jobs; starting sensible with crowbar, flashlight, ruler but quickly devolving as the straps and pouches seem to hold random test-tubes of strange materials, bundles of random herbs, and even small thing of garlic.

He attempts to hide most of this by throwing his dad’s old leather working jacket, though he practically drowns in it. The only thing he’ll keep in full display is his work badge; hockey in the novelty-FBI design, it does read his actual title:

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**Frank L. Write**

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**Foreclosure Property Inspector**

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**DoomInvestors Inc.**

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> **--*“****...if you don’t mind me asking...how’d you get that scar?”*
>
>

Working with DoomInvestors Inc wasn’t quite what Frank had planned for his career, specially going into his 40s, but it wasn’t, like, *terrible*. Karen, the 50-something spitefire heiress to the family company, was a pretty nice boss and the work was honorable, in it’s own way; the company would find and purchase properties that have gone through extensive damage (per the jingle “Doomed beyond compre-hension!”) and offer a fair-ish price to buy (“but not Doomed enough for us!”), where she would work her extensive connections to get it repaired, remodeled, and resold.

She’d buy the office donuts on Tuesdays. And made sure everyone got a card on their birthday.

You just had to never refuse a property. Never.

That’s where Frank came in; do to his education (and a bit of misunderstanding in the initial hiring process), he ended up being the sole inspector of the company. Tasked with assessing the damage, cost of repairs, and starting a few repairs himself and equipped with the company tools and van, he made his way from abandoned factories, derelict manors, and forgotten cabins in the woods, and found out a few things:

Monsters are real; They have fantastic taste in real-estate; They are terrible housekeepers; They have strict views on home invasion; and Karen will never refuse a property.

This has lead Frank through some interesting experiences and learning some skills on-the-job; inspiring locals to help clean up their neighborhood; learning how to do in depth research to understand the local culture; fire-arms training with the company handgun (“for when you find rats or teenagers on the property!”) and even finding ways to “take care” of POIs (Property’s Occult Issues). Sometimes by helping the creatures move on, or even purchasing their old haunt. And sometimes in much more bloody ways that lead to awful jagged scars, like the one going down Frank’s left ear.

Started working at DoomInvest at 23, then the disaster hit a year later. DoomInvest was able to keep trucking along through, plenty of real-estate open for the taking now.

## Trivia

* The L stands for Lazurus
* When the party was rummaging through the van, they found a box of fancy sweaters with mysterious notes that seemed to be something similar to love notes.