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Frank Sweitz, the Heroic Reporter during a moment's reflection
over his "crash-proof word-processor".
NAME: Francis Jude Xavier Sweitz, known as "Frank" or
"Frank the Reporter"
TEMPLATE: A 22nd century version of the heroic reporter
you find in 1930s movies ("HeroicReporter" is even his Internet handle/email address). Basically the semi-typical nice-looking
young white American guy, only a little more rumpled.
SPECIES: Orga
AGE: 33
GENDER: Male (heterosexual)
HEIGHT: 5' 11"
WEIGHT: 155 lbs. (He doesn't have anyone cooking for
him regularly)
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Tall, skinny, black hair, hazel-green
eyes. Bears a wierd resemblence to Joe in appearances. Scars on chest (one in almost the exact same spot on his upper left
chest as Joe's operating liscense) from being attacked by a knife-wielding maniac during an uprising in Beijing he was covering
when he worked as a foreign correspondent. Tattoo of a rose on the inside of his left elbow. Slight Midwest accent. Frequently
wears a slightly beat-up tan trenchcoat (how 1930s heroic reporter-esque can you get??)
BACKGROUND: Born in Iowa, the second of two kids (twin
sister), both parents died when he was 12, in a hyperjet crash. Was raised by his grandfather who worked as the gardener for
a Catholic convent outside of St. Louis, Missouri. Studied jorunalism in a college in Canada where he met Hal McGeever. Worked
as a domestic and foreign correspondent for several papers throughout the Eastern Seaboard and the Midwest. Married Bernadette
Connelly when he was 31, but lost her in a terrorist attack on a hotel in an Eastern European city when they were on vacation
there.
PERSONALITY: Friendly, likeable, witty (at times a little
manic), a gentleman and a gentle man. Seems deceptively submissive at times. Basically a nice, soft-spoken young guy. Works
well with people. A bit of a romantic (when he's in a relationship). Understands what it means to suffer.
OBJECTIVES: His goal in life? Right now it often consists
of trying to keep his spirits up after losing his wife. But he tries to enjoy himself wherever life and his work leads him.
He isn't a go-getter as far as his work is concerned, but he's not lackadasical with it either--unless he's covering a huge
breaking story, and then he goes into turbo-mode. He always tries to find "the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the
truth" when he's covering a story. He's written a few articles for the CRF's publications, but painful past experiences cause
him to shy away from taking a more physically active role in the Mecha rights movement.
A QUOTE (or two): "To be paid to do what you love...ain't
that the dream?" Harlen Maguire, "Road to Perdition"
"STOP THE PRESSES!!" (He never actually gets to say that
for real, but he loves yelling it for a joke when he's excited about a new case)
SPECIAL QUIRKS, ETC: Very fond of 1930s movies. Occasional
smoker. He has a very large soft spot for Mechas, whom he views as a whole new class of humankind. Has an especial place in
his heart for Joe, whom he sees as a slightly wayward younger brother. He was kind of a nosy kid, so he's adjusted well to
sniffing out the details of whatever news story he's covering.
The family home in Perchance, Illinois, just outside
Rock Island
Carton Sweitz, Frank's father, a historian specializing
in Jazz-Age studies and one of the founders of the Jazz-Age Revival and Reenactment Society, in which he often played the
role of a hit man (which, despite his gentle personality, earned him the nickname "Carton the Hitman")
Frank's parents, Irene and Carton Sweitz. This was
one of the last photos taken of them before their untimely passing.
Little Franky, age 9 months, with his aunt Louise
Franky, age 4, with his twin sister Terez in their grandmother Stella Tenniel's garden
The future Heroic Reporter as a 'cub': Frank, age 12, nosing around.
Grandpa Rufus Sweitz, ameteur historian and gardener for the Franciscan convent outside St. Louis, Missouri.
Frank inherited his crazy sense of humor.
Frank, age 16, with Grandma Stella
Frank, in college. Apparently he'd just been caught in the act of some crazy practical joke, which explains
the "Who? Me?" look in his eye.
One of his college pranks, which he and a few others pulled on a dormmate who used too much toliet paper:
They wove some into a mat and stuck it across his door!
The Gentlemen Strangers, formerly known as the Handsome
Strangers, a jazz combo which Frank and two of his 20th Century History classmates started: Fred Granger (left) on percussion,
Mack Dellingham (center) on vibraphone, Frank trying to make it
big on saxophone, but he always ended up blowing some
very odd notes. Then they were joined by a rather ugly accordion player named Halloran McGeever, so they changed the name
of the group before they had their first public performance (when this photo was taken), which ended up being their last.
Frank doesn't want to think about that, since, looking back, he realized he made a total ass of himself.
Frank's first amorous encounter involved a lovely French-made
lover-Mecha known as Aubrey, who, before her untimely destruction, helped him hone his skills as a lover.
Harry DeLong, Frank's godfather and also his mentor in the Jazz-Age Revival/Reenactment Society (JARRS).
JARRS Second Generation -- L to R: Frank, Connor Reilly, Harlen
DeLong (Harry's son), and Vernon Traget, all captured on film via Hal's 1909 Kodak
The "Chicago Typewriter": Carton's working replica M1928
Thompson submachine gun, one of the more bizarre things Frank inherited...
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Frank and Terez, all grown up
Ion Kappoulous, Terez's husband and a good friend of Frank's ("Hey, how many guys do you know who can say
that in all honesty about their brother in law?)
The family car: actually a fuel-cell car which Carton and his cousin Willfred stripped down to the chassis
and painstakingly rebuilt to look like a 1930 Ford Sedan. Frank still drives it.
Just before his wedding to Bernadette Connelly: "Hal, do
I look all right? ... Do I look all right? ...Do I look all right?"
A tender moment between Frank and Bernadette "Bernie" Connelly, photo taken shortly after their marriage.
Despite Bernie's rather strict upbringing, Frank helped bring out a passionate side she never knew she had.
Hal, not quite believing it, snuck up on them one night (when they were spending a week in his apartment) and caught them on
film...But then the whhinng-klik of the camera woke Frank up...
Frank and Bernie on their second honeymoon, while Frank was covering the royal wedding in Vrilitaria, a
small country in Eastern Europe...They managed to sneak in a donkey hiking trip in the hills outside Strelsoro, the capital
city--Only to have the donkey get stubborn!
Frank, after Bernie's passing, unable to sleep...
Frank on his worst vice: "I know: it's a nasty habit, what's a nice-looking guy like me doing this? But
it's nowhere half as bad as what SOME people do!"
The rose tattoo: "A relic of my mis-spent college years. The stem used to be shorter, but...I had some extra
work done to cover up the name of an old girlfriend."
Because Frank and his two roommates, Cecie Martin and Hal McGeever, are all involved in journalism somehow,
Frank personally named their apartment "The Press Box". Above is a shot of their living room, and yes, that's the infamous
Hal parked on the couch. ("Them's my photos on the wall, and that's my camera yer usin'!")
The Heroic Reporter on the streets of Rouge City, pounding the pavement in search of a good story
F. Isherwood Burnstead, detective and SPCB (Sentient Property Crime Bureau) agent, one of Frank's most important
contacts
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