Sasha Freeman

[sasha]

Finished? Yes.


O N _ Y O U

Name/Alias: Nae (Naomi)
Gender: Girl.
Experience: Three years.
Location: East Asia, GMT +8
Other Characters: --

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C H A R A C T E R _P R O F I L E

b a s i c s

Full Name: Sasha Michelle Iverson Freeman
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Date of Birth: April 29th
Tainted? Yes
Ability: Exousism - An Exousic has 'super-human' strength. Signs of Sasha's power began to appear when she was 16. Back then, her strength only came at times when she was angry or particularly incensed, but since then it has only grown. There was an event in high school that she'd never forget. Frustrated, her boyfriend had hit her across the face, and in retaliation, she'd thrown him clear across the room. Now that she's 21, however, she's gained significant power over her ability. She is only unable to harness her strength when she is distracted, but cannot use it for more than an hour at a time.
Beliefs: Sasha believes nothing. She was brought up to hold a healthy amount of skepticism (maybe a little too healthy) and she's suspicious about everything. She has no religion - after all, she's been cursed. She has no reason to believe in a higher power. Anyone with faith is a fool. Sasha depends on herself and herself alone.



a p p e a r a n c e

Eyes: Large and like doe's eyes, with large, shining irises. Her eyes are a murky shade of green that is sometimes confused with brown and are framed by long, dark eyelashes.
Hair: A dark shade of brown that almost appears black, Sasha's wavy hair is thick, shiny, and lustrous.
Height: 5'8.5
Weight: One would expect a girl with Sasha's ability to be as heavy as a bodybuilder. However, she's almost the opposite, weighing in at 115 pounds.
Distinguishing Features: Sasha has a tattoo on her lower back: a pair of wings.
Other: Sasha is thin and lithe, her movements graceful, almost predatory. Even after being around her for a short period of time, one can almost feel an aura of inexplicable danger around this girl. Sasha has never been rich and scoffs at the idea of wearing anything designer; she tends to stick to plainer clothes in which she can maneuver.



p e r s o n a l i t y

Likes: Sasha loves her motorcycle; it's her favorite item second only to her rifle. Men, drinking, and horses also account for her other interests.
Dislikes: She absolutely abhors stupid, gullible people. She finds that they have no place in life - they're a waste of space, quite simply. She hates it when someone tries to tell her what to do; she does things her own way. Displaying signs of weakness will earn you no respect. Girly girls, rich kids, and cigarettes make her nauseous.
The Good Points: Sasha knows what she wants and how to get it. She's ambitious, independent and very strong-minded. She knows how to take care of herself and she knows how to use a gun; her childhood has made sure of that.
The Bad Points: She's a tempestuous, narrow-minded, and sheltered girl. She's snarky and cynical; sarcastic comments are her forte, and she's not exactly concerned about hurting anyone's feelings either. She pretends that she's alright, but she isn't, because some scars just run too deep.
Habits: Lots and lots of drinking and hooking up. Sasha loves alcohol. Being from a small town, it was easy to obtain, and she'd gotten addicted at a young age. The fact that she works at a bar doesn't help much. Sasha's definitely promiscuous; hooking up is a common occurrence, no strings attached.
Possessions/Obsessions/Other: Sasha is extremely attached to her rifle and her motorcycle. She's had to use the rifle on many occasions, though she's never actually killed anyone with it. Her motorcycle is for quick exits; Sasha makes enemies fast.



o r i g i n s

Place of Birth: Tucson, Arizona
Family:
Michelle Iverson-Freeman (Mother)
Cadence Freeman (Stepmother)
Zackary Freeman (Father)
Carolina Freeman (Older sister)
Serene Freeman (Younger sister)
Alyssa Freeman (Younger sister)
John Freeman (Younger brother)
History:
Sasha had always had a fractured relationship with her family. Growing up on a ranch in Arizona, Sasha's life had started off rough. It was common knowledge that families needed boys to do the work on the ranch to cut costs from hiring help. Michelle Freeman had given birth to four baby girls, one after the other, and still, no boy came. By the time she was four years old, Michelle and Zackary's marriage was strained. She grew up witnessing long arguments between her parents, during which sometimes her parents exchanged physical blows. Finally, when Sasha was five, Michelle gave birth to a baby boy, but by then, the marriage was beyond repair. On the day of her seventh birthday, Michelle finally snapped and left home.

The Freeman family was left in turmoil. Zackary began to frequent the bar more and more often, and it was up to Carolina to take care of the children. All of the Freeman girls knew how to use a gun to kill any wild animals that might attempt to harm the family's cattle stock.

One day when Sasha was nine years old, her father came home with a woman. Cadence was her name, and she was slutty, annoying, and useless. She'd never done a day of work in her life. Cadence and Sasha's relationship was rocky from the beginning. Her stepmother hadn't gotten along with any of the children, but Sasha's reaction to the woman was the worst. Carolina had learned to tolerate things, and her younger siblings not nearly as belligerent. Even at her young age, Sasha had come to value hard work. Cadence would do none.

Even as a young girl, Sasha generally got along more with boys. She was athletic, tough, and pulled a mean punch. The other girls feared her, and she had quite an attitude. However, as she got older, Sasha grew more and more attractive. Boys began to view her romantically instead of as a friend. This boosted her popularity in school, although her home life was still splintering away, beneath it all.

Cadence and Zackary had gotten married, and since then, Cadence had only grown more irritating. Her father's attention had long turned away from his family, and Sasha and Cadence's hatred reached a point where Sasha longed to take the rifle and shoot her in her sleep.

Entering high school, Sasha was promiscuous, popular, and liked. Boys drooled after her, girls flocked after her in secret jealousy. Still, she was mean, snarky. She made many enemies.

When she was 16, her boyfriend tried to force her to do something she didn't want to do. She'd long since lost her virginity, but Sasha had never liked it when anyone told her what to do. She'd tried to leave, and the boyfriend, in all of his frustration, had hit her across the face. In a bout of sudden rage, Sasha had flung him clear across the room.

This had been her breaking point. Sasha began to see herself as a freak. She withdrew from social activities, and her peers began to wonder about her. Meanwhile, Cadence had come home one day drunk. She'd talked about how Sasha was a good-for-nothing lout, how she ran around with boys, as good as a hooker, and how she was just like her mother. That was the last straw. She'd acted out in blind anger, snapping her stepmother's leg clean in two with one simple movement. If she'd been any angrier, it could've been her neck. Sasha packed her bags and left home for good.

She stayed with a friend by the name of Catherine Morgan. She couldn't depend on charity, so she dropped out of school and found a job. Unfortunately, unemployment was high. Sasha was forced to become a bartender.

After two years in the business, she realized that this small town life wasn't helping her go anywhere. By then, she'd saved up enough money to buy an airline ticket, although much of it was stolen and borrowed money. She hadn't even lost control of her strength once. Her weird mutant ability had been put behind her. Perhaps it had been two strange, twice-in-a-lifetime occurences.

Suddenly, she knew where to go. Paris, France. She'd always longed to visit the romantic city. Despite her school's low education standards, Sasha had excelled at her second language choice. French. She didn't speak like a native, but she was still proficient at it, nonetheless. Determined to make her Paris dream come true, Sasha took the next flight to Paris.

After a two-month stay in Paris, Sasha realized that the city life wasn't for her. After all, she'd grown up on a ranch, and frankly, the city was intimidating. She knew another place she wanted to visit: southern France. To be specific, Marseille.

As soon as she arrived there, she began to notice her ability once again. She hadn't touched it in three years, yet she'd grown stronger yet. She knew she'd be able to kill, and lived carefully. She was afraid she'd get too close to anyone. Yet along the way, she met someone like her.

Nate had been tainted, too. But he called it something different. He was convinced that he was special. He was American also, a mimicrist. He changed her, and she fell head over heels for him. He told her of a village called Sanlignee nearby, where there were people just like them. That he wanted to go there someday, but here was where he wanted to be. Two months into their relationship, Sasha realized that she was exactly where she wanted to be. Never mind that she was still working in a tavern; it was Nate that counted. She realized that she wanted to spend her life with him.

Two months after her happy realization, Nate was dead.

He'd been killed by a drunk in a tavern. Her tavern, when she had been given her day off. She tracked the man down; found him in his home, and killed him in cold blood with a snap of the neck. It had almost been too easy to commit such a sin. Disgusted with herself to the point of wanting to commit suicide, Sasha decided to seek salvation. Sanlignee, wasn't it? She would go there. Maybe there was someone there who could fix her.



m i s c

RP Sample:
A satisfying kill.

A woman of about 30 or so years, blonde and thin. She'd been hiding out in the back of the train the rebels had discovered for days, greedily devouring the food. Doing nothing to aid the people, doing nothing of use at all. She was only about 5 feet in height and weak, useless for manual work. She did not deserve to live. There was no use in her existence. So Zara had finished her off. It had been easy, just a knife to the throat and the blood had spurted freely, blood that would've been used better in her brother's veins. The woman had barely struggled. She didn't want to. She had no will to live. In a way, Zara had done her a favor.

Her name had been Ingrid.

Zara loved to learn about her victims. Anything she could find out, she did, hungrily. She was intrigued by their existence, and their sad little histories convinced her all the more that they had no use on this earth. How could one parasite live for so long? After all, it was evolution. The weak died and the strong survived. Ingrid was bound to die anyway. Zara was only speeding things up, and in the process, she was saving valuable resources.

Zara walked into the Corrigan house, adrenaline coursing through her veins. Killing always gave her a strange kind of thrill. After all, she'd done the world a favor. She walked through the rooms of the house and stopped at the doorway one in particular. The dining room was bleak; ugly, and seemingly empty. Zara's heart ached. She desired company, and she wanted it now. After all, she'd just made a kill. That was something to be proud of.

The raven-haired girl did a double take. Sitting quietly on the table was Cassandra Ueda, one of the few allies she had made in this godforsaken town. Nicknamed Cassie, the girl was alike Zara in so many respects that it was scary. Her face split into a grin. Cassie was one who would appreciate what she'd done for the town. What she'd done for the faction.

She sneaked into the room stealthily, ignoring the bloody footprints she was leaving upon the floor. They would only be improvements on the bleak, dusty ugliness of the living room. Being careful to make no noise at all, Zara moved over behind Cassie. She'd made no sound so far. So far so good-

Crrreeeaaaak. Damn the stupid wooden floor! Zara did what she was about to do anyway, throwing her hands over her friend's eyes. In a deep voice hardly reminiscent of a man's (it was but a sad imitation), she called out, "Guess who?"
Character Model: Taylor Cole

[Nona Constantine]

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Welcome to _TC. Since you have read the rules and the background story, your next stop should be The Model Claim to make sure no one else can use your model, Relationship Plots to build yourself a reputation, and then there’s just one thing left to do…

Have fun!