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Florence Masson

'Money can only get you so far, the rest is up to you.'

0 · 560 views · located in San Francisco, California

a character in “They are Anything But Simple”, originally authored by Cloud, as played by RolePlayGateway



“Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.”
― Mahatma Gandhi


Full Name:
Florence Ruth Masson

Flo or Flor


Birth Date:
7 December, 1992

Sexual Orientation:

Ukrainian American

Apartment Number:

College Student
Majoring in Art History

"Let's probe a little deeper"
“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

Debates \\ Herbal Tea \\ Girl Power \\ Art
History \\ Lemonade \\ Gilmore Girls \\ Cats
Sunshine \\ Sunflowers \\ Sushi \\ Independence
Vodka \\ Poker \\ Drinking Games \\ Indie Music

Sexism \\ Motorbikes \\ Heights \\ Junkfood
Smoking \\ Cemeteries \\ Being Stereotyped
Hangovers \\ Sleazy Men \\ Gin \\ Being Cold
Country Music \\ Drugs \\ Twillight

Losing her money \\ Perhaps a shallow fear, but one Florence dreads nonetheless. Her trust fund has always been there as a safety net, but more than losing that she fears being destitute and forced to live on the streets.

Freezing to Death \\ In winter Flo dons layers of warm clothing. She hates the cold. One of her biggest fears is freezing to death or suffering frostbite and losing her limbs.

Flo dreams of being an Art Curator at a famous museum. Somewhere overseas such as The Louvre would be her dream of dreams.

Flo began her studies in law, as her parents wished her to follow her father's career path. However after little more than a month it coon became apparent to Flo that she detested Law immensely. So she changed degrees and is now studying Art and Art History with the hope of becoming an Art Curator. Of course not wanting to disappoint her parents she hasn't actually told them of her coarse change, although they are still paying for it.

"My Personality"
“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”
― Oscar Wilde


Headstrong \\ Independent \\ Social \\ Hard-Working \\ Flirtatious

Even as a young child Flo was always very headstrong, a trait she no doubt inherited from her father. If she wanted to do something she would, if she disagreed with someone she would let them know. Flo loves a good debate. She has firm beliefs of her own and isn't easily swayed from her opinions, but that doesn't mean that she can't appreciate a well-rounded argument. She has also always been rather independent, going out on her own if needed. While she loves her friends and loves spending time with them she also understands that she has to do somethings on her own.

She has always been a social person and loves being the amongst it all. Flo was never one to lock herself away in her room. She prefers to be out meeting and greeting people, laughing with her friends and experiencing life. She loves to laugh and does so easily. She loves a good session of banter and has no problem trading harmless insults or witty remarks with friends.

Flo is also very hard-working. While she loves partying she knows when it's time to settle down to study. She has an intelligent mind and when paired with her dedication to her studies it is only natural that her grades would be high. She likes doing well and sees any low grade as a disappointment and failure. Saying that, low grades are a rarity for Flo. She loves what she's studying and works hard to maintain a high GPA.

As mentioned above she is a social butterfly. She loves to party and can drink with the best of them. She also enjoys flirting and if it leads to something more, well she likes that too. She's a twenty-first century girl and sees no reason why she shouldn't have fun if she wants to. Not to say that she's too promiscuous, Flo has her standards and won't go home with just anyone.

Flo has an extreme dislike for sexism. She hates the double standards that exist between men and women and is very vocal if she thinks someone is acting in a sexist way. Flo also has a dislike of stereotypes and racism. As the only daughter of wealthy parents people often assume that Flo has had everything handed to her on a silver platter and doesn't know the meaning of hard-work. Of course her parents do help her a lot financially, but everything else, her grades, her friends and so on, she has worked hard to get herself.

"What else is there to know?"
“Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.”
― Bernard M. Baruch


Florence Ruth Masson is the only child of Alexandra and Barry Masson. Alexandra, a native of Ukraine moved to America when she was 16. Her father was born and bred just south of the USA - Canada boarder in a small, out of the way town. Always a precocious child Barry Masson graduated top of his class and quickly went on to become a top lawyer. By the time he married Alexandra he had managed to gather a decent fortune beneath him. Alexandra too had made her mark, opening and running a successful catering business. By the time Florence was born the family's fortune was enough to buy them a penthouse in New York, a holiday home in the French countryside and set up a trust fund for their little girl.

Flo's early life was rather ideal. Her parents took care not to spoil her, raising her to value hard-work. She was always told how lucky she was and from an early age Flo appreciated that her parents wealth gave her things that many children could never dream of. She rarely asked for more and was happy with the small allowance her parents gave her. Well, small compared to the other children she went to school with. To anyone else it most likely would have been a fortune.

At school Flo had a large group of friends. She wasn't shy and loved being surrounded by people. Often she was the one leading her group of pals through the playground and later to parties. When they were old enough Flo and her friends would take trips to one of their holiday homes. Flo liked to party and have fun, but she always left time for her studies. Her father strongly believed in Flo getting a good education. She would clearly see the disappointment if she came home with anything other than an A. So, around the parties Flo studied hard to get grades high enough to please her father.

Going to university was never an option for Flo, it just was. Despite the headstrong young woman she had grown up to be she had no idea what she wanted to study or what she wanted to do as a career. As a result of this indecision she let her father push her into studying law. Flo moved out to university and began her studies into law, taking an art history paper on the side simply out of interest. It became quickly apparent that law was not the career path for her. Flo hated it. It was tedious and dull to Flo's eyes. However Flo found her art history paper wonderful and quickly changed degrees. She still hasn't told her parents, although they continue to pay her tuition and her rent for her apartment.

So begins...

Florence Masson's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Dakota Yu Character Portrait: Amber Tate Character Portrait: Florence Masson Character Portrait: Chrysanthemum Davenport Character Portrait: Evangeline Babineaux
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#, as written by Vix

Friday – February 8, 2013 @ 7:31am

“Chrissy and Jackson have been addicted to methamphetamines for the past eight years. Chrissy was once a lawyer and Jackson previously owned his own antique shop. After eight years of selling all that they owned to be able to afford higher grade meth, they eventually went broke. They came across each other only two years ago and have been together since. Neither of them are able to afford their own homes anymore and squat in abandoned warehouses and dilapidated apartment complexes.”

The words were cut off as the mocha-skinned Cajun sat on the couch with her laptop early in the morning making the finishing touches to her latest documentary. She had spent the past three months following two meth-heads and questioning their every decision. She had a friend who had majored in Psychology help her with the interview’ as well as a lot of the commentary, helping the future viewers somewhat understand the addicts. She had done documentaries before on potheads, crackheads, and heroine addicts, but she had yet to cover many other drug addicts. She rubbed at her eyes some having gotten up at three in the morning to finish up the film, now finally putting together the credits after a last review of the two hour long footage. She put her laptop down as she finished before glancing at the clock. It was already past six...She had to hurry and get ready for work. With a yawn and a few stretches, she closed her laptop and made her way to the bathroom where she delighted herself in a short shower. When she was finished she made sure to rub down with cocoa butter, paying special attention to her tattoos. She hated when tattoos faded. Every now and again she would look at the space that she had left and ponder what tattoo she would get next. She was thinking of getting a dandelion with the seeds being carried away over her shoulder by an invisible gust of wind. That was always a delicate classic. Maybe too classic. Perhaps a quill dripping ink onto her shoulder and just below it a nice little quote from Gandhi. Or Professor X. Professor X was the shit...He was Gandhi of the comic book world.

A smile danced across her features as she dressed in her uniform of a simple black pair of shorts and a green t-shirt with an apron before slipping on a pair of shoes and dashing down to the cafe with her bag. “Ah! Charlie horse! Charlie horse!”
She caught herself on the stairs, dramatically falling to the floor as she let go of her bag to grasp her calf while letting out a howl of deep pain. “Good God, I'm dying! I've been shot! Someone help me! Woman down! Woman down!!” She gave a whimper only for the pain to subside. lt hadn't been that painful — But where was the fun in not overreacting like your every action was being filmed for a cheesy sitcom? Kept her on her toes and made her less bored when she was alone. She quickly recomposed herself and brushed off her apron before calling out to the other apartments above her, “No worries! False alarm guys! I'm all good.” Grinning t0 herself. she skipped her way down into the cafe, using her key to get in. Eight years. That's how long she had been working at The Mighty Bean. Slinging coffees, waiting tables, making little sandwiches and baked goodies and stuff. It had been a wonderful eight years. Dakota still didn't seem to understand Cajun's attachment to the place when she had the accreditation to work much higher paying jobs. Nobody understood her attachment to the place. It was her first job. When she was younger and struggled for rent a few times, Gordon would pay it for her and never asked her to make it up. She loved meeting the people there and the fun that went on within the walls.

She pulled her hair back, her strange silver eyes dancing across the place as though she hadn't been there in years. She moved to the kitchen and began to prepare a breakfast enough for five people. She was never sure who would decide to pop in so early, but she liked to make sure that she made enough food. It would never be more than four people and hardly less than two others. She was simply sweet enough to make sure that they weren't wolfing down disgusting toaster strudels from the store or choking down a greasy breakfast burrito from a fast food restaurant that was just barely scraping by to pass health standards. The thought of it made her stomach tumble and her throat close up as though filled With sponge cake. Ugh. She hated sponge cake. It was so suffocating. She did a documentary on it before. It was only twenty minutes long. But it was nice. Doing the running man, the woman maneuvered her way around the kitchen while preparing large omelets and toast, turning on a fan so that the scent would waft up through the vents and into the apartments above. She put her iPod in the kitchen dock and put on her "Taste of Home" playlist, jigging around the kitchen as she tossed various veggies into a searing saucepan.

“I was cuttin' the rug down at a place called the Jug with a girl named Linda Lu. When in walked a man with a gun in his hand lookin' for you know who. He said, "Hey there fellow with the hair colored yellow! What you tryin' to prove? 'Cause that's my woman there and I'm a man who cares and this might be all for you. I was scared and fearin' for my life, shakin' like a leaf on a tree. 'Cause he was lean and mean and big and bad, Lord pointin' that gun at me. Oh, "Wait a minute, Mister! I didn't even kiss her! Don't want no trouble with you. And I know you don't owe me but I wish you'd let me ask one favor from you". I said, "Won't you give me three steps, gimme three steps Mister. Gimme three steps towards the door? Gimme three steps. Gimme three steps Mister and you'll never see me no more".”

The bubbly Southerner was unable to keep herself from smiling as she simply basked in the scents swirling around her, adding a dash of pepper here and a sprinkle of her special seasoning there with a dollop of love all around. She loved this kitchen and often spent forever cleaning it before going out to buy fresh ingredients. Sometimes she could get Gordon to come with her sown to the fish market. He was one of the only people that she knew that absolutely loved the smell of fresh fish. She didn't mind the smell, but the man had often wished that they had a fresh fish scented candle. He was a strange man but she did enjoy his company very much, even as they worked alongside one another under his father's employment. She wished that she could take him up on his offer of becoming a manager but she just didn't have that kind of time. She didn't have time to worry about who was showing up for work and who wasn't and who needed a raise and who needed to be fired. All of it made her itch. She was comfortable with her above minimum wage position doing whatever someone needed her to do within her five hour work days. She couldn't add managing ten employees to her list of things to do. She absolutely adored the place, no doubt. But her passion was her an and she would go where it took her. Still...This little place was one of her favored sanctuaries. She was dishing out plates containing omelets, hashbrowns, sausages, and Belgian waffles, leaving them under a heat lamp just to keep them warm as she began to squeeze fresh orange juice.