PRP Fröken|AlexZz

Hi, Fröken!

Should I write a small summary or something like a story? xD

Template:
Name:
Age:
Looks:
Family&Background:
Ev. Weapons:
Other:

Is that enough?

I think so!

Name: Rhiannon Wright
Age: 18
Looks: 

Rhiannon is about 180 centimetres, more like 185 if we should go into details, tall and she is pretty muscular. Well, that happens after spending her childhood as a gymnast. Her face is disfigured with some scars, they are few and small though, more like scratches. She's quite pale and her hair is actually dark, dark brown and not black. She has had the same piercings since she was 13 and she has cut her own hair for some time now - it is kind of evenly cut. She wears a black cap, a worn dark grey jeans jacket over a slightly worn and somewhat destroyed red, white and black checkered shirt. Rhiannon also wears black-grey incredibly worn jeans with patches pretty much all over them. She has a dark green belt which is contains her weapons and she has white sneakers.
Family&Background: Rhiannon was born in Wales and she lived her first 5 years in the town Usk. Then she and the rest of her family moved to London were she kind of got to know and seriously embraced the British language and nowadays she uses always talks with a british accent, it's impossible for her to speak anything else. She lived in London where she pretty much became the black sheep in her family. When she was around 17 soon to be 18 Rhiannon and her family went to the town of Boston in America for an, in her opinion, idiotic family reunion we're she got pretty much pushed together with the younger kids in the family, she didn't want to. Not at all. But when people started eating other people she stole her uncles shotgun and ran off.
Other: Rhiannon is a free spirit who cares much for others up even if she doesn't want to show it. Rhiannon is agile, a good climber and is really fast. She is also into gymnastics and parkour is something she kind of taught herself and then perfected during her younger years. She can handle some kinds of weapons but it's mostly shotgun, knives and a handgun.

Template:
Name: Audrey Bouvier
Age: 20 years
Looks: She is short and willowy with tanned skin and hazel brown, curled hair. In first sight, she seems weak and in slight underweight, but she's quite the contrary. Her muscles are lean but strong and her height is of use in some situations, even if it's a bad thing most of the time. She wears utilitarian, comfortable clothes such as military outfits, boots and jeans.
Family&Background: Audrey was born into a wealthy family. Her parents were both more interested in money than in people which lead to their divorce and their children's independence. Audrey focused on her academics and dug deep into every sport she could find.
Ev. Weapons: She has got a knife.
Other: As a result of her childhood, Audrey has become stubborn and she's got trust issues. She doesn't like asking for/getting help from anyone. She takes pride in being intelligent and bright. Another thing she can't stand is when younger people tell her what to do.

Awesome! I was gonna write; "I can change if anythings unclear." in the end of mine but forgot.

Should we start on a normal day in the camp or something? x3

Sure, you go first. I'm so fabulous, I know!

I'm sorry for the delay. X_x'' Seriously, I've been done with it for like a week just haven't sent it of some damn weird reason.

--

The blue sky seemed to taunt Rhiannon, honestly? A blue, beautiful sky with sunshine and almost cloudfree is pretty much smearing it's innocence and happy lies over them and at the same time people are eating people in the streets. Hooray! Maybe this is the "Someday" where she'll die? Then that would be even more ironic. She's on the roof on the house that's currently her residence, togheter with at least twenty others that she'll never care to or have to learn the name of because eventually they'll probably day.
"Rhiannon, get off the roof! You can't be to much of a use up there!" Oh yeah, because surely Rhiannon can be bossed around by a man who blows peoples heads of because they're 'not part of their camp'. This camp sucks, and the weirdo leader Randall is not much better. That old man should be in his tomb by now if you ask Rhiannon. But no, nobody asks Rhiannon. That's absurd!
"Rhiannon!" Another shout? Seriously Randall? She's coming, just slowly.
"I'm coming!" The teenager-tone in her voice shows through but to Randall it doesn't matter as he walks off. Rhiannon climbs down the ladder. If she has to count ammunition again she's going to flip out. She hates counting ammo.

Audrey rested on a chair which she had dragged out in the sunshine. It was a lovely day, one of those days that made life a little bit easier to put up with, and the way Audrey's life had turned out she appreciated these days more and more. A little girl played on the dirty ground, her blue dress had turned greyish and her wavy, blonde hair was greasy. She looked like the majority of the population at the camp, the only difference was that she seemed happy and innocent, like if she hadn't noticed the danger they were all in. Audrey tilted her head slightly backwards, towards the shining sun. Today was her day, and she wouldn't let anyone take it away from her. Especially not one of those damn leaders who thought they were superior and bossed around like the others were a bunch of school kids. Audrey wasn't the ideal follower since she never did what they told her to, but that didn't keep them from trying, sadly. The fact that she had a brain made her an important person. Almost everyone else had as much brain as the walking dead people outside the fence. Just as she gained warmth, something, or more likely someone, cut of the light.
"Ms Bouvier!" A man said. Crap, she thought, well the day has officially been ruined.

Rhiannon will never understand what the big deal is about counting the ammunition when they pretty much never use it. Usually it's just just by the guarding fools but not even them are allowed to use bullets since it "attracts unwanted attention", seriously? So the fact that they're screaming their guts out every now and then doesn't attract attention? Rhiannon is not counting ammo; she's counting antibiotics. Which also is something that's not needed since they rarely ever need it. Why isn't she allowed to do anything else but these boring assignments that pretty much anyone can do? Rhiannon drops one of the bottles as the door to the storageshed snaps shut. It's pitch dark and Rhiannon sighs deeply. Maybe she's locked in now? Then she can just count whatever much medicine they have and then relax for the rest of the day until someone opens it. Rhiannon walks to the door and opens it without much trouble.
"God damn it." Rhiannon mutters as she slides a rock to prevent the door from closing entirely again. Then she walks back to the shelves, picks up the bottle and keeps counting the stupid medicine that nobody needs to use anyway. The storage is filled with food, medicine, ammo and a box in the back stores the guns, but pretty much everyone is carrying around a melee weapon. Rhiannon for example has a large kitchen knife in her belt. But she'd prefer one of the leaders weapons since one of them walks around with a freaking axe. Axes are a lot better than kitchen knives.