FRANK MORRISON / 'LEGION' of DEAD BY DAYLIGHT. private, selective, mutuals only roleplay blog. made july 2025. exclusive & lore-affiliated with @juliegion. based off a combination of game lore, comic tie-in lore, and individual headcanons. slides.
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FRANK MORRISON / 'LEGION' of DEAD BY DAYLIGHT. private, selective, mutuals only roleplay blog. made july 2025. exclusive & lore-affiliated with @juliegion. based off a combination of game lore, comic tie-in lore, and individual headcanons. slides.

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starter call (i forget if i had a pre-existing one but i don't think i do?). feel free to specify what verse you want otherwise i will pick <3
when the slasher got unresolved childhood trauma
you don't know anyone else like me . (early days?)
it's a statement. like he's just saying it. affirming. and it maybe should make her feel something other than endeared. like he's a plushie and she wants to dig her teeth in rip out the stuffing. frank morrison is interesting, new but not shiny, so not shiny that's the best part. frank morrison is also tragically right.
"no. i don't." admitting some sort of defeat. blue eyes on him she tilts her head. "i guess i'm kinda into that. a little." she looks away, she's anything but shy. keep her secrets, playing some sort of game. it feels like frank knows it already. "-tell me, ever met anyone else like me?" she thinks she knows the answer, it's like she can see it. the road ahead, a tiny little red string. the kind of string you trip on. get all tangled up. the kind you can choke on.
it's like a dance, the way she looks away, all coy. a dance where they both know the steps. frank feels himself grinning, before he even means to. "just a little, huh?" he shifts closer, smug. just a little.
"i think you know the answer to that," he does too, but he's not giving it up that easily. where's the fun in that? no, he's starting to think he never met anyone like julie, as much as she pretends to be the pretty, popular girl next door. there's more to her. something sharp-edged. something that everyone else in toothless little ormond (and every other shitty place he's ever been) lacks. it's like a mirror. "you doing anything tonight?"
Pump Up the Volume (1990) dir. by Allan Moyle

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dru just said to me that the opposite of gay chicken is lesbian pigeon, it entails not doing lesbian things even though you really want to for pride reasons, like admitting you have feelings.
it's because pigeons don't have feelings.
for the first time in a long time, the anger didn't drive her. when she found out what micheal and the rest of the stupid dumb idiots in the team did she didn't lash out at them. and it wasn't for a lack of anger, no the anger was so intense, it was numbing. it felt white.
but when she didn't get to see frank, their usual spot clear of any signs of him that's when it turned into something else. she feels bad. like it's her fault somehow for breaking up with the guy. it's even worse when frank sounds. like mad about it.
fuck.
a part of her wants to be mad back right at him, but she's worried. why the fuck is she worried? why the fuck is she feeling these things? she doesn't want it. less if he's going to act like this. "damn. okay, i just came here to see how you were doing, you dickhead." and while she knows when her presence isn't wanted, she sort of pushes back, coming in through the window, but remaining close to it. "heard what happened." she leans back, hands on the edge of the window and she's not looking at him. "i sorta feel like it's my fault." and julie doesn't fucking know what she wants out of this. frank's hurt and she just. had to see him.
usually he's flattered when julie shows up at his window, romeo-and-julieting her way inside. now he just wishes she'd taken the hint and left him alone. he wonders how she heard what happened. were trevor and his dipshit friends bragging about it all day in class? frank wouldn't know, he'd skipped.
"it's not your fault, jules," he drags out the words. "just 'cause he's your boyfriend doesn't mean you can control him. maybe you should try one of those electric dog collars. or strap a taser to his balls." it's a good image. almost makes frank smile. it's not enough, though. he needs the fucker dead.
and he has to make everything worse. especially when his knuckles are scratched up and his lip swollen. "so this is like a house call? where's your sexy nurse outfit?"
Franky~
GOD HELP ME, [ miles upshur of the outlast franchise by dru. private. selective. iconless. mutuals only. 21+ only. c. ] I THINK I'VE SEEN THE WALRIDER.
you're so old school. i love it.
first rule of stalking. do it alone. second rule of stalking. shut your fucking mouth. he sighs, like the energy is leaving his body through it. he turns, still crouched, slowly, staring at the stupid kid. frank. this one, this dumbass is frank.
"old school?" when danny was a teenager, he wasn't very good with other teenagers. too much, too mature for his age. all he could see were slabs of meat waiting to be diced and sliced. the pretending to be nice and friendly came way after high school, when he figured out the whole act. that being said, he doesn't understand why She would want brats roaming around freely without a fucking leash. "-are you even hearing yourself?" voice modulator makes his voice sound a certain way.
"well, kid. some of us do more than just swing our little knives around." they're far away from camp, he thinks She must have let the little rat loose, slipped between realms. his problem now. oh. okay. danny hasn't picked someone to watch for the night. "-there's more to this than just gutting someone open."
"hey, don't get me wrong, man. i'm a fan. we all are. you're a classic. like kurt cobain, but for murder." hands up, the smile on frank's mask reads as mocking. whatever expression he has on under it, well, that's for him to know.
some might say it's a once in a lifetime opportunity, getting to watch the ghostface do his thing. but once in a lifetime isn't really a thing in the fog. frank doesn't let adults tell him what to do, as a rule, but maybe this guy's different. maybe he'll listen, just to humor the old man. "okay, sensei. lay it on me. what are the twelve easy steps to becoming a successful stalker?"
frank isn't built for crouching. his thighs kinda hurt. but he's in it now, so in it he'll stay, one hand on his knife (for self defense, he's a fan, he's not stupid) (little knife? what, like they're having a dick measuring contest? what a loser) and head tilted towards ghostface.

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private, independent & selective frank morrison aka 'the legion' from bhvr's dead by daylight. c.
tentatively putting a call out there for a dbd rp community server to hang out and talk ooc mainly??? (this includes people with verses and others in the horror community <3)
@inhunt: YOUR GIRL GOT REAL FRIENDLY WITH ME ON MY COUCH.
frank cracks a smile, dry as dust. dry as the flowers baking under the unforgiving sun of this killer's realm. frank's an intruder here, a guest if you're feeling generous. this far from mount ormond, the heat makes him itch, gets under his skin. too hot for the legion mask, and besides, there's no need to wear it now, in these in between hours with no survivors in sight. julie's in a trial, and frank's gone exploring. clearly, that was a fucking mistake.
it comes naturally as ever. frank's mouth twitches, and then he swings, a sloppy right hook set for the center of the bastard's smug mouth. it connects with a satisfyingly wet noise. blood. good.
"bullshit. like she'd give your hick ass a second look," but the confidence in his tone is false. leatherface's freak brother is hot, unfortunately, and, well, julie does like the murderous ones. (he'd know.)
pushing forward now, getting up in johnny's face the best he can (at 5'7'', frank's height isn't the most threatening thing about him. but hey, that's what the knife in his belt is for. being underestimated is a gift, except for when it makes him want to claw someone's eyes out.) "stay away from her, you greasy fucking reject. i'm not gonna tell you again."
every stock bullying photo that comes up when you google 'stock bullying photo' is about legion actually. hope this helps!
traveling today but hit me up here or on discord and let’s plot!

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fig 1: frank in ormond. fig 2: frank in the fog, on his entity-sponsored t journey.
plotted with @juliegion.
"fuck, jules. way to sneak up on a guy."
his tone harsher than usual; he doesn't want to see her. more specifically, doesn't want her to see him like this. his lip's still bleeding sluggishly from where trevor hit him, and his face stings all over.
frank's never thought about killing someone before, not really. now, he thinks about how it might have gone if trevor hadn't had the whole fucking basketball team backing him up. how frank could have gotten him on the ground, kicked him in the face, broken his nose. gotten his hands around that muscle-fat neck and squeezed --
frank shifts away from the opened window, like it'd make a difference in her seeing how badly her shitbag boyfriend fucked him up. his voice comes out rusty, harsh from overuse. "what do you want?"