Post by Freya Collins on Nov 15, 2012 9:50:37 GMT -8
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FREYA ELISHA COLLINS
PLAYED BY :MILLA JOVOVICH[/center]
THE CHARACTER
FULL NAME: Freya Elisha Collins
NICK NAMES: Collins
PREFERRED NAME: Collins or Freya
AGE: 32
GENDER:Female
OCCUPATION: Freya opened up her own youth centre, there she taught self defence classes as well as a variety of other things for the youths to part take in. Before this Freya dabbled in illegal cage fights.
HOME REGION:Northeast
PREFERRED WEAPONS: Freya has two machetes which she has strapped to her back, and a handgun.
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Freya is battled scarred and she hasn’t even stepped foot into a war that her country fights daily. Not her battle scars of both physical and mental, having stepped into a bad crowd at a very young age. Her eyes are the first thing that gives it away, they are the eyes of someone who has both seen and done far too much in their short lives. Her physical appearance contradicted the look and coldness you see in her eyes, and even when she is smiling there is something there to let you know she’s not just another pretty face.
She’s a little bit of an odd ball when it comes to her clothing sense. Many of her friends have called her more of a conservative dresser. To Freya she just dresses in what she feels comfortable in, and if that means a pencil skirt and shirt, or track suit bottoms and a muscle shirt then so be it. She’s not afraid to be different either, always changing up her look to suit her mood. Before the dead started rising Freya had managed to grow her hair down to the middle of the back. Once the world all but ended the first thing she did was chop it of so that it hands just below her jaw.
Considering the life Freya used to live when she was younger one would think that she would have more art work, or more piecing’s, but again Freya doesn’t have many. She has two tattoos, one which spans most of her back. A phoenix tattoo, and on her right shoulder she has a cherub with Paul written under it. Her dead brothers name.
LINK TO THE PHOENIX TATTOO minus the rest of my art work lol
PERSONALITY: Freya has and always will be a loose cannon. She has a tendency to act on what she thinks and wants rather than thinking things through and basing her choices on this. Freya’s key motto in life has always been live for the moment, never regret yesterday. Freya has an addictive personality, where she sees something and she wants it and can’t simply settle at having a little, she has to have more. She’s always been the same even though she has desperately tried to change. Years of therapy has shown her that you are who you are and you can’t be anything other. Freya has long since gotten in touch with who she is, and accepted what who she is. She makes no excuses for herself, but she does believe that just because you are one person, doesn’t mean you still can’t be good.
She’s dedicated and hardworking and hates being told no. She has a slight chip on her shoulder and is always out to prove people wrong. Those kids back in school who told her she would never amount to anything. Oh she proved them wrong alright. The bank that refused her loan request, she proved them wrong as well, the police that keep telling her she can’t help, that a bad egg can never been good, she proved them wrong as well.
Despite her hard appearance, or her sometimes gentle appearance, Freya is nothing but hard edges. She’s tough speaking and hard. Her steps, her stance, and the set of her jaw all prove that she’s seen some shit and isn’t afraid of getting her hands dirty. If you think you’re going to win a battle of wills with her then your wrong, she can give as good as she gets and then some. Like everyone she has her demons and you’ll tend to see this in the way she often goes off in her own little world when she’s ‘looking after the kids’ as she likes to say.
You’ll often find her rubbing the back of her wrist, a reminder of where she has been, and where she is never going to go again. When temptation bites at her she’ll instantly focus on something else. She constantly lives on the edge, and she knows what she does is walking a fine line she could possibly fall of, but she doesn’t think about what could happen. Her gaze and focus is firmly on the future. Or whats left of it anyway.
LIKES
- Her business. Freya has put blood sweat and tears into opening up her own youth centre, and though it has its trying moments, Freya is extremely proud of what she has achieved and everything and everyone that has come out of it.
- Fighting. Even now, after years, Freya enjoys a little illegal cage fighting. She grew up around the scene thanks to her brother and she herself got into it.
- Her journal. It keeps her mind fresh and you’ll find every inner most thought. It’s a little chaotic though, just like her life. Here you’ll find business meeting times and thoughts about her ‘kids’.
- Dogs- She had a rottie who would come anywhere with her. He was a little bundle of fun, and was her own little security blanket.
- Silence. Freya doesn’t get it often, so when she finds the time she’ll lock herself in her apartment, switch of the lights, and just listen to nothing. Theres nothing like it.
DISLIKES
- The police: Okay so maybe she doesn’t dislike the police as in dislikes the police. To Freya the police are an annoyance that tend to see only one side of things. Many of a time she has been in a situation where she has bailed out one of her ‘kids’ for the police to throw them back in jail, or come after them at the first sign of a crime, simply because they have form. Freya was there, she’s done that and she believes everyone deserves a second chance. If you don’t give it them, give them a chance no one else will.
Crowded places: Freya suffers from a minor form of claustrophobia, she cant abide small spaces, but whats worse for her is the idea of being anywhere and being locked in. If she didn’t sleep near her keys or with her window at least a little open she would freak out, majorly. Lifts are another big no no for her. She was trapped in one when she was younger and has never forgotten it.- Men giving her flowers: Does she honestly look like a woman who wants a man to give her flowers? Or a man taking her to a fancy restaurant, or even jewellery for that matter. Nope in fact shes happy with a beer and cheap diner food.
- Mice: Yes little Miss tough miss has a phobia of mice. She hates the creatures, with a passion, she sees one oh shes going to scream like a little girl.
- The past: She hates remembering it, hates thinking of it, hates anyone that brings it up to her. Her past reminds her of too much, like the murder of her brother, and the downward spiral with her parents.
HISTORY BEFORE: Freya was born the second of three children. Her elder brother born five years prior to her own birth. He told her stories of how life used to be. How her father was this big hot shot in this company, their mom was a stay at home mom who used to bake cookies every day, and how she would read every night. That life didn’t last long though, the company went bust and her father was one of the first to be cast aside. With neither of their parents having many qualifications, finding work became difficult. A car accident which left her father paralysed made finding work impossible. With what money they had left and what money they had saved for a rainy day gone on medical bills and home improvements, they were left broke and needing t downside. The last thing they needed was another child thrown in the mix, but not believing in abortion when her mom found herself caught out with Freya, Freya was brought to term and delivered.
Left to deal with two rowdy children, one who was used to getting everything he wanted, and another a new born who demanded all the attention Jane became distraught, as did their father, neither knowing what they could do, both living with fears of their children getting swept up with the gangs of children that was in their new neighbourhood. By the time Johnny was 11 that was exactly what happened. With her brother spiralling more and more out of control, their parents spiralled further into depression, and Freya became closer to her brother and those he hung around with The thing she liked most was the fact they protected and loved each other, they were as close as close could get, something Freya was desperate for.
By the time Freya reached 9 their youngest brother Paul was born and both Freya and Johnny were firmly involved in gang life, although for Freya that simply meant hanging around and then getting home as early as she could to spend time with her younger brother who she adored as much as she did Johnny. The deeper Johnny got, the deeper Freya got as well. For Freya it was a little fun, they were like a big family, but it wasn’t until she was in school and being bullied that Freya lost herself to the life of being in a gang. Coming home one night after getting into fight at school, the bullies were promptly taken care of and no one messed with her again, just like her new family had promised.
Spending as little time as she could at home, Freya was out with her brother and his new friends every night, and she was taught how to defend herself, not just with her fist and her words, (Which she was already good at) but with blades as well, and by the time she was 16 she was already competing in the illegal street fights, and by the time she was 18 her rap sheet was longer than her arm.
Paul was just like Freya had once been, hanging onto the new and upcoming gang who had made a name for themselves and made a lot of enemies. During a night out hanging with 18 year old Freya and their older brother Johnny, Paul was killed in a drive by. That night started Freya on her five year spiral. It was the death of her m other and the pleading from her father and a stint in rehab that finally got her clean. Her father was close to death, most of the gang had been killed, and her brother was in jail and Freya took one hard look at her life. Her father sent her rehab and Freya finally got her life together, but she couldn’t ever forgive herself for the death of Paul so she decided she wanted to do something about it.
The first place she went was the bank, she needed a loan so she could open up her own youth centre, but she was turned down. Annoyed but not deterred Freya with the help of her brothers friends, and her own started a fundraiser which brought enough funds for her to rent a space . Now years later she owns the space, and she has people working for her. Every now and then she comes across a troublesome teen who reminds her not only of herself, but also of her brother. She’s lost a couple, but most of the ‘kids’ that walk into her centre get themselves clean. To her the centre if somewhere the youth of today can go to be free and creative instead of falling into the dangers of the street. She teaches defence, has staff that teaches dance and a freelance shrink as she likes to call it.
DURING APOCALYPSE: Never one to get along with the police, and knowing that nine out of ten times the shit that comes out of their mouths was just said to annoy her, when a local narcotics cop came into the centre she laughed him out of the door. So maybe she should have listened to his warnings, maybe when he told her to get home and stay there, not to go into the streets and not to trust anyone. She should have, but she didn’t. In fact for the first couple of days, other than the riots that were suddenly running through the city and the warnings from reporters along the same lines, she continued along her day to day work.
She was working when she first realized something was seriously wrong. One of her kids Darnell came into the centre, bleeding and terrified. When she tried reaching the ambulance and got nothing but static she knew something was seriously wrong, and this time when that Narcotics cop told her to barricade the doors and stay inside she did just that. The only problem she had a centre filled with at least 20 kids under the age of 18, one of which was bleeding out, and four staff, and they were all terrified. It took Darnell four hours to bleed out, four hours in which everyone had to watch him die. She couldn’t do anything but watch, her kids were terrified and she couldn’t dwell on a life that shouldn’t have been lost.
Freya doesn’t remember how long it took, but the kid she had watched die, whose blood was all over her body came back, and started attacking the others. Four were bitten, and Freya did the only thing she could think of, she took off to her office got her gun from her locked desk and blew his head off. In the time it took her to get her weapon those that had panicked had run to get out of the centre, and the chaos from outside was spilling inside, and she knew those that had been bitten were going to become whatever the hell Darnell had been. Her only regret was she didn’t kill them as well.
She tried protecting those around her, but she lost most in the crowd. A couple stayed with her, and they made it back to her apartment, They stayed inside for a week, barricaded the doors, kept the lights of and didn’t make a sound. Tey were all terrified, Freya will admit that even today. The sound of fear, and death is never a thing you would forget anytime soon. And they heard a lot of it in that week. With supplies gone they had no choice to go out, Frey went alone and when she returned it was to find her apartment building on fire. With her home gone, and no one to protect she did what she could and she hit the road.
ROLEPLAY EXAMPLE:
The night was colder then she expected, and it had shocked her, the morning was warm, warmer then it should have been, so warm that many of the guardians had set of without much more then a shirt on their back, Feenix, knowing how quickly the weather could change, and how it could affect you if you were caught unawares, had grabbed her jacket, now she pulled it around her body tightly, fastening it and pulling the hood around her ears. A gale force wind threatened to take her of her feet and she knew she had to get outside, somewhere warm, soon.
She had no idea what town she was in, se had travelled days from the Guardians hideout, always at night, during the day she slept, it was the only sure time she was going to be safe, with her travelling alone, she had no one to protect her, to watch her back. Travelling at night was stupid, reckless and suicidal, but it was the safest bet, the only way to fully ensure herself that she wasn’t going to get picked of.
Cold wind prickled the skin of her face, causing her eyes to water and her breath to hitch in the back of her throat, her finger tips were freezing, but she refused to relinquish the weapon in her hand, if she remoistened it now she’d risk death in the time it would take her to react in the cold weather.
Everywhere she looked there streets were empty, desolate, abandoned cars, were broken and destroyed, windows smashed and buildings crumbling, it appeared that the larger cities had been hit the worse. No sign of life, as if one day everyone had just gone.
Letting out a breath she rounded the corner onto the small street, weapon held tight in her hands, sparkling eyes wondering around the desolate street. A shop loomed ahead and she slowly moved towards it, she was in desperate need of supplies, and if this place was fully stocked, she could get words to the Angels.
A flash of movement made her stop, heart hammering beneath her chest as she tried to control her breathing. She had panicked, out in the open she was easy pickings, yet the movement had been nothing more then her own reflection. Letting out a soft breath she furrowed her brow ever so slightly, one week and she was still sporting bruises, her left eye sporting a fading blue bruise, a gash was slowly loosing its brush, her cheek still tender to touch. Swallowing Feenix diverted her gaze, knowing that if she continued looking she would remember, know that wounds on her body were just as bad.
With a deep breath she pushed open the door, her gun entered the building, her small frame followed moments later. A puff of breath flowed from her mouth with every intake and out take of breath, blue eyes darting around. The sweep of the building was quick, but thorough. Finally being able to relax she returned her gaze to the shelves, the perishables had given into the times, the smell of rotten food littered the air, cans and toiletries were thrown from the shelves, it was time to get to work.
She had no idea what town she was in, se had travelled days from the Guardians hideout, always at night, during the day she slept, it was the only sure time she was going to be safe, with her travelling alone, she had no one to protect her, to watch her back. Travelling at night was stupid, reckless and suicidal, but it was the safest bet, the only way to fully ensure herself that she wasn’t going to get picked of.
Cold wind prickled the skin of her face, causing her eyes to water and her breath to hitch in the back of her throat, her finger tips were freezing, but she refused to relinquish the weapon in her hand, if she remoistened it now she’d risk death in the time it would take her to react in the cold weather.
Everywhere she looked there streets were empty, desolate, abandoned cars, were broken and destroyed, windows smashed and buildings crumbling, it appeared that the larger cities had been hit the worse. No sign of life, as if one day everyone had just gone.
Letting out a breath she rounded the corner onto the small street, weapon held tight in her hands, sparkling eyes wondering around the desolate street. A shop loomed ahead and she slowly moved towards it, she was in desperate need of supplies, and if this place was fully stocked, she could get words to the Angels.
A flash of movement made her stop, heart hammering beneath her chest as she tried to control her breathing. She had panicked, out in the open she was easy pickings, yet the movement had been nothing more then her own reflection. Letting out a soft breath she furrowed her brow ever so slightly, one week and she was still sporting bruises, her left eye sporting a fading blue bruise, a gash was slowly loosing its brush, her cheek still tender to touch. Swallowing Feenix diverted her gaze, knowing that if she continued looking she would remember, know that wounds on her body were just as bad.
With a deep breath she pushed open the door, her gun entered the building, her small frame followed moments later. A puff of breath flowed from her mouth with every intake and out take of breath, blue eyes darting around. The sweep of the building was quick, but thorough. Finally being able to relax she returned her gaze to the shelves, the perishables had given into the times, the smell of rotten food littered the air, cans and toiletries were thrown from the shelves, it was time to get to work.
PLANS: Freya is wanting to either start up her own camp, or find a camp in which she can help. She hates being useless.
ANYTHING ELSE?:Nope
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
GO BY: Faye
ROLEPLAY LEVEL: Been at it to long.
HOW DID YOU FIND US?:Your advertised on my site
PASSWORD:****
TIME ZONE:GMT
GO BY: Faye
ROLEPLAY LEVEL: Been at it to long.
HOW DID YOU FIND US?:Your advertised on my site
PASSWORD:****
TIME ZONE:GMT
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