Post by freddie spencer collins on Apr 13, 2009 7:33:45 GMT -7
`FrederickSpencerCollins*
Drink my beer and smoke my weed
But my good friends is all I need
Pass out at 3, wake up at 10
Go out to eat, then do it again
`welcome to the s u b u r b s *
YOUR NAME. Matchknee
OTHER CHARACTERS. None
RP EXPERIENCE. Three-Four Years
`where the g r a s s is green *
FULL NAME. Frederick Spencer Collins
NICKNAME(S). Fred, Freddie, Fredster, Spence
AGE. Sixteen
GENDER. Male
ORIENTATION. Bisexual
PLAY BY. Derek Bloom
MEMBER GROUP. Junior
APPEARANCE.
One first glance, there are two main things you'll notice about Freddie, 1) he's extremely lanky, 2) his mop of ginger curly hair. The shade of his hair varies depending on the day, or whether or not he's dyed it recently. He's skinny as well as tall, which for a while worried his grandparents that he had an eating disorder. He has baby blue eyes, which are all too often hidden behind either aviator sunglasses or very occasionally, his black Oakley glasses. His right is nearly covered in tattoos, thanks to a few good friends in the tattoo business.
Like the majority of teenagers, Freddie's dress sense is very casual. He tends to wear a few layers at the least, and always with the thin black hoodie he has had since what seems like the beginning the time. He has a bunch of band t-shirts, of which he is always wearing one, as well as his rather controversial 'Hitler European Tour' t-shirt. Although it's not exactly clothing, there's always a cigarette attached to his hands and a backpack on.
`where days become n i g h t s *
PERSONALITY.
Although he absolutely adores making a dick of himself for a laugh, Freddie's favorite humor style of all time is most definately dry and sarcastic wit. It's actually a guarantee that if you're sarcastic, Freddie will adore you. He's always happy, and very rarely will he be seen in a negative mood. The way he see's it, there's always someone with a worse off time than you, so why be annoyed by little things. Weed turned him rather philosophical... Freddie has a theory regarding life, and one that has caused his grandparents many nights of sheer worry. Freddie's theory - like a lot of other peoples - is that you can sleep when you're dead. He's always on the go, partying, BMX-ing, being a jackass. He knows that life is too short, and will always try something knew if it seems intriguing enough. Of course, this thought on life is not without its downfalls. Freddie has spent many a night getting x-rays, bandages, puking blood, sewing together gashes... He knows that when he's older, it will all have been worth it so he can say he's lived. Due to having moved around a lot as a child, Freddie is fiercely protective of the close friends and family that he has. He'll travel to the end of the worlds for someone he loves, give them anything they need. It may seem like he's just doing that to secure their friendship, but really he just wants people he loves to be happy.
LIKES.
Camel Gold cigarettes. Backpacks. Dogtags. Drums. Energy drinks. Lying in the sun. Sunglasses. Hairdye. Tattoos. Plaid shirts. BMX. Soup. Music magazines. Super Mario Brothers. Weed. His iPhone. Liquor. Vespa's. Online poker. Amusing western's.
DISLIKES.
Hospitals. sXe preachers. Being cold. Early mornings. Egotists. Musicians who can't play. People who think you can be a bitch in a good way. When screws lose their threads. People on a constant downer. Scratched Discs. Being ripped off. Overly girly girls. People who think they're so original because they do something a certain way when they're just wasting money on media popularization.
FEARS.
The dark. Having to go back to Miami. Nuclear war. Frogs.
`and nights become d r e a m s *
FAMILY.
George Edward Collins (62) grandfather
Edith Matilda Collins (59) grandmother
Mortimer John Woods (56) grandfather
Marie Leanne Woods (56) grandmother
FRIENDS.
Christopher Kyle Fielding (20) cousin
Evelien Kate Martin (15) ex-girlfriend back home, but still BFF-er
HISTORY.
On a usual sunny day back in 1992, in South Beach, Miami, Ella Collins unexpectedly went in to labor. It was a complete shock to both she and her then boyfriend Wally Woods, as neither of them had actually noticed that she was pregnant. This was due to the fact that both of them were junkies. Neither of them actually wanted the baby when he was born, because they were too concerned with being young and free. So in came the help of Ella's mother and father, who took the baby as their own. It was they who christened the baby boy Frederick Spencer Collins.
Freddie spent from birth to the age of six-years-old living with his grandparents. He was happy there, and although he knew about his birth parents back in Florida, he had no desire whatsoever to go back to them - not that they wanted him. When Freddie was six years old and working his way through Kindergarden, a tragedy bestowed itself upon his grandparents. They had ran a flowershop in their home of West Chester, but a few bad orders of flowers saw the business go pear-shaped. Struggling to fund their bills and own expenses, George and Edith had no choice but to send Freddie to live with other relatives across the states.
Freddie experienced the real highs and lows of America during his search to find a stable home. He experienced the glitz of Hollywood, which he promptly fell in love with. He lived through the busy city life in New York city, which wasn't much to his liking. Life was too fast and organized there for Freddie's liking. He even at one point lived in a hick town, which was like something straight out of a cliche movie. They had a million kids, all the girls called Something May, and all the boys with names that ended in Bob. Needless to say, Freddie wasn't a big fan of that lifestyle. Although he did get a pet rat, which he found pretty awesome.
When Freddie was eleven years old, he started to grow weary of not having one home to stay in, of always having to move and try to fit in again, and he hated not having any friends. He told his aunt who he was staying with that he wanted to go home, and so the older woman organized it for him. When Freddie recieved his ticket, he didn't check it for sheer excitement, and instead just quickly boarded the plane for home. When it came through the announcements that the plan would soon be landing in Miami, the young boy was confused. Miami wasn't his home, West Chester was. Freddie decided to enquire about it when he got off the plane, and instead tried to concentrate on his book again.
He descended off the plane and checked all around him, looking for the help desk. During his searching, he heard a strange voice behind him calling 'Freddie!'. When he turned around he was greeted by the sight of a happy family watching him. A mother, father, and two children. Freddie frowned in confusion and politely inquired "Do I know you?" He was quickly informed by the family greeting him weren't strangers, it was his family. A range of emotions made themselves known to Freddie at that moment. The first was shock, he hadn't seen these people in years, so why now? The second was anger, who in the hell had thought he meant this place and these people by home? The third, and most poignent, was hurt. His parents had two more children and kept them, and hadn't even given Freddie a second thought till now. Deciding he wouldn't have this one bit, Freddie got on the phone and asked his grandma to arrange a flight home for him. His parents were confused and asked him why, and his response was inaudible due to the tears from the hurt the boy was feeling.
When Freddie got back to Pennsylvania, things started to look up for him. He once again had his stable life, friends, and best of all for him, he had his real family. Around this time, Freddie's cousin Chris came back into the picture. He had knew him as a child, but then he had been sent off to a boarding school. He became Freddie's idol, he was in awe of how he would skate, smoke, and generally do stupid things but not give a shit about it. Under his teaching, he started to play drums and it became obvious Freddie had a natural talent for it. Then a short while before his twelfth birthday, he noticed Chris and his friends smoking something that wasn't the usual cigarettes. They told him it was pot, and not wanting to be left out, Freddie begged Chris to let him try some. He gave in to stop him whining, and this was Freddie's first real experience with drugs.
When Freddie was thirteen, Chris had a little party while their grandparents were out of town (he was at this point living in the same house as Freddie). During this party, Freddie got drunk for the first time. Like every first time drinker, he was relatively lightweight and so it didn't take much, but it was a chain reaction that lead him on to harder liquor and more drugs. Needless to say, his grandparents were not one bit happy about what Chris was doing to their grandson, but he wasn't really bothered. He loved the highs, the rushes, and being able to escape from all the thoughts about his life.
A few months after what become known as 'that party', Freddie's grandfather was rushed into hospital with chest pains. It was revealed the old man suffered from a heart attack. After a few weeks of rest, he was able to return home, but he was never the same. A few of Freddie's cousins in blamed him for his medical ailment. They said that all the stressed he caused by his increasing wild behaviour was too much for him to handle. Freddie hated that, and so always had to rely on Chris for reassurance. Behind his back, Freddie's grandparents came to the decision that as he was the only minor in their care, it would be better off for him to go to boarding school. They couldn't give him the attention he needed and so they thought it wasn't fair.
Unfortunately, Freddie's stint in boarding school was extremely unsuccessful. He was expelled after a couple of months and returned home shortly before his fifteenth birthday. By this point, his grandparents were getting angry with him, and so at home there would be nothing but arguments when he was home. In the end, they realised that there was one more relative they hadn't tried, and told Freddie to pack up. When he was fifteen, Freddie was sent to live with his paternal grandparents in California, where he has remained since.
`where everything ain't what it s e e m s *
SAMPLE POST.
Shuffling out the double doors and into the fresh air, Spencer sighed as he sat down on the steps by said door. Spencer was having a monotonous day, to say the very least. It was going exactly how he expected it to go. Normally, that would have been lovely; change in routine was not something he was fond of at all, especially where school and work came into the equation. That was until today. Today, he needed just something more, something to take away the boring tone that had been underlying in every action and word from him so far in the day. He had an odd feeling that he knew exactly what his body craved, but that certain narcotic was in the midst of being avoided at all costs.
As Spencer lit up and took a draw of his cigarette, he glanced at the watch on his left wrist. It informed him that he really needed to get up off his ass if he wanted to make it to his politics class next period. This brought on something new, for the first time in his young life Spencer was considering skipping a class in favor of just fucking about for a while. It wasn't as if he really needed to attend that class that day anyway, he had already read over the things he knew they would be doing that day in the class and would just be sitting there staring in to space as someone asked the same question a hundred times. There couldn’t be one person in the world that enjoyed that experience, could there?
Taking a final draw of the cigarette, Spencer stubbed out the embers of it and then flicked the butt in direction of the grass. He had made up his mind and wouldn’t attend class. Then came a new decision, where exactly would be go instead? Not used to not attending class unless sick, Spencer didn’t know whether or not to go back to his dorm room or maybe go hang somewhere else. He gave a yawn and then started to walk, deciding to go wherever his feet led him to. Well, not that feed could actually lead, rather where his subconscious led him to. He wandered through the hallways of the school, and went to his dorm room for a short stop.
Spencer dropped down to his knees and clawed at boxes under the bed, seemingly unable to find what he was looking for. ”For the love of Christ…” He muttered as his hand got stuck between a box, the floor and a pile of magazines. And of course, when he yanked his arm back to free it, he would elbow the wall. With a yelp, he sat up on his ankles and rubbed his elbow, frustrated and now with a wrecked elbow. With a sigh, Spencer lent on the bed frame and pushed himself up. Then he got an upside, as a small bottle dropped from the little space between his mattress and the lip of the bed frame. With a triumphant smile, he lifted the bottle and felt his hand around for the syringe.
Not finding what he wanted, Spencer lifted his satchel that was usually kept exclusively for book. He lifted out the couple of textbooks he had in it for that day of classes and dropped some different things in, namely the syringe, the bottle, some water and his iTouch. Now he had what he wanted, Spencer headed off again. He was again heading nowhere in particular, but by the time he reached the schools main door he realised that it really would be helpful to think of a suitable place to go for the afternoon. Stopping at the bottom of the steps, he lit another cigarette, deciding that it would help him think. A couple of minutes later, he remembered the bike sheds. Although he never really went there anymore after his bike was stolen in 9th grade, he recalled the rickety shack having a door and being relatively private. Starting across the grass, he began to wonder if there would be kids already there.
Preparing himself for the disappointment that the bike shed would in fact be occupied, Spencer gave a sigh and slowed down his pace and he approached the door. ”Hello?” He called warily before opening the door. He decided that calling out before opening would give him a better chance to pretend he was talking to someone else if there was some drunk weirdo’s in the shed. There was no reply though, so Spencer pushed open the door and went inside.
Flopping down on the bench, Spender pulled the leather messenger bag over his head and set it down beside him. He sighed and slouched down on the wooden board, trying to get even remotely comfortable. It didn’t appear to be working for him so he decided to get down to business instead. Opening the satchel, he pulled out the bottle of dilaudid and his syringe. Uncapping both the needle and bottle, he filled up the syringe and then set it down beside him. Rummaging around in his bag, Spencer pulled out the spare leather strap that had came with the bag in case of breakage. Pulling up his shirt sleeve, he wrapped the strap around his upper arm and then picked up the needle. After giving a couple of flicks to remove air bubbles, Spencer took a deep breath and pushed the needle into the most prominent vein among his pale flesh. He whimpered a little as he slowly slid the pusher of the syringe down, emptying the liquid into his veins. A couple of seconds later, the needle dropped from his hand and his head rested back. He exhaled the breath that he had held in a deep sigh and then closed his eyes, resting his head back on the wall.
Slapping his hand about on the ground, Spencer located the needle and bottle and messily returned them to his bag before pulling his knee’s to his chest and starting to doze. He had a faint notion of someone coming in the door to the shed, but he wasn’t sure if it was real or his imagination. ”’Lo?” He slurred.
