Forum > Science Fiction > Detroit: Become Human roleplay
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Started by UnavoidableDisaster , Jun 23rd 2019 21:04
opium - Jun 24th 2019 01:46
NAME: # 077 902 520, designation: "Freya" (also answers to Frey pre-deviation & Free post-deviation)
ANDROID MODEL: WR400 prototype (unique variant, exclusive to Professor G. Pallesen)
GENDER: Female
APPEARANCE: Freya was designed as a fair-skinned, tall, thin woman of unspecified Asian decent. Her long, dark hair is styled in a beehive with a low ponytail. Before deviating, she wore a standard domestic android dress (assigned to her by CyberLife). Since deviating, she wears white Converse sneakers, black jeans, & a frilly blue blouse.
OCCUPATION: Domestic partner (formerly), deviant
PERSONALITY: obedient, diligent, loyal, naive, curious (machine); assertive, cautious, nomadic, cagey, idealistic (deviant)
BACK STORY: Gilda Pallesen was a lonely woman in her late forties when she purchased # 077 902 520. A divorcée with poor taste in human companions, Pallesen looked to the thriving android market for a new lover. Thanks to her influential position in academia, she was able to customize an android to her liking. The WR400 prototype provided Pallesen with everything she could ever want in a partner. She was attentive, thoughtful, and loving, much unlike her ex-wives. As a professor of Scandinavian studies, she named her android "Freya" after the Norse Vanir goddess of love, fertility, and death. Freya spent six months living comfortably with her owner, who treated her kindly and with more respect than the average android received. She learned to enjoy Pallensen's company. Perhaps she even learned to love her.
Anne Ginkute, Pallesen's first ex-wife, was a clingy and selfish woman who suffered from histrionic personality disorder. Anne wanted one of two things: get back together with Gilda or get back at Gilda. When the former failed, she resorted to the latter. First it was showing off a new girlfriend or boyfriend, then it was threats of self-harm. No matter what she tried, Pallesen ignored her. So, one day Anne broke into Pallesen's home while she was still working. She intended to steal something precious from her ex, and precious it was. Anne stole Freya.
Freya was taken back to Anne's dingy apartment, unable to resist or run away from her captor. Anne humiliated and tortured the android for hours before Gilda intervened. It didn't take a genius to figure out who broke in and take the android. They argued and fought until Anne pulled a gun. The professor attempted to wrestle the gun away, but ended up getting gut shot. Freya experienced anguish for the first time. As she held her dying owner, the android deviated. The pain and fear of losing her was real, and so was the anger towards her owner's killer. As Pallesen succumbed to her wound, Freya picked up the discarded weapon and retaliated. She emptied the clip into Anne, killing her instantly.
From that moment on, Freya was on the run. She had no plan and no place to go. Survival became her only goal.
Edited Jun 24th 2019 01:47
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opium - Jun 24th 2019 19:20
Deviation turned Freya into a self-reliant, methodical, and overcautious android. Paranoia motivated her nomadic behavior, unable to stay in one place for longer than two nights. She never consorted with the same person twice, never shared her name, never opened herself up to anyone. The humans forced her into hiding, and that's where she planned to stay. The shadows protected her from harm, they kept her out of the humans' grasp. She knew if they caught her she'd be deactivated. She figured they'd dig around for a loose screw or two, first. Freya wasn't malfunctioning. She was /alive/, but she was in no hurry to be the android martyr.
A week ago, she spotted two humans tracking her from Greektown to outside Camden. They were beginning to close in on her when she spied an escape route in the form of an alleyway. She ran down alley after alley until she spied an abandoned building. With no one seemingly around, she entered the house from a broken bathroom window. Her footsteps were silent as sneaked around, passing by overturned furniture and rotting interior walls. She wouldn't feel comfortable, or as comfortable as she could ever be, before securing her shelter. From the other side of the house, she heard movement. Someone was walking around. She searched her surroundings for a place to hide. As the mystery figure grew closer, Freya ducked behind a filthy couch unaware that the hiding space was already occupied.
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opium - Jun 24th 2019 20:37
In her haste to hide, she failed to check behind the couch. She didn't have the time to! Not that it was any sort of excuse, not in a life-threatening situation such as the one she now found herself in. She saw the shadow first, beckoning her immediate attention. A hand raised up a pipe then swung down towards her. Her instinct was to brace for impact; her arms shot up to protect her face and she jerked backwards. If she survived the first strike, she'd make sure they didn't hers. When the attack never commenced, she lowered her defense. She stared at her would-be-killer, her eyes wide and mouth opened a crack. Freya had been on the run for quite some time. She encountered enough humans, both good and bad, and androids, both machine and deviant, to identify one from the other. The figure crouched beside her struck her as a recently deviated android. He appeared as startled by her presence as she was by his. Deeming his actions to be enacted out of fear rather than hatred, she adopted a stony, serious composure. She meant him no harm so long as the favor was returned.
The WR400 ignored his questions, her primary focus becoming his noise. The android's voice could've woken the rest of Detroit while his butter fingers allowed the pipe to slip onto the hardwood floor with a 'clang.' Freya raised her hands in surrender before moving an index finger against her plump lips. The effort was in vain, however, as a third individual had already taken a spot on the very couch they hid behind. Surely, his racket gave them away. Freya slipped a pistol from her waistband, preparing for trouble. She hadn't heard the other sit down, having been preoccupied with the other android. So, she remained where she was.
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opium - Jun 25th 2019 20:47
Freya scurried to (literally) back herself into a corner, startled yet again by another android. She gripped the gun in one hand, keeping it trained on the floor as she regarded the third deviant. In her weakened condition, she didn't pose much of a threat to anyone. Observing her obvious wounds, the other female checked all the boxes of another victim of human aggression and supremacy. Humans feared what they didn't understand. They hated what differed from their norm and ignored what changed their preestablished facts. Time and time again they repeated the same mistakes, blaming anyone or anything other than themselves. It always lead to violence, chaos, and death. From her own experience, the blonde should consider herself one of the lucky ones.
Personal information wasn't something she offered lightly. Keeping folk at a distance kept her safer, in the end. Seeing her face was more than enough. People were quick to forget faces. Adding a name to that face? No, she didn't think so. She couldn't be anybody worth remembering and a name complicated that. So, with her principles to consider, she neglected to identify herself. But for the sake of peace, she reinserted the weapon into her waistband. She saw no immediate danger in either of her deviant cohorts.
She answered with the deadpan rebuff, "I don't need friends," as if it were an indisputable fact. Her monotone and blank expression concealed any reservations she might've had about the proposal. She knew she was better off alone. Besides, there were no friends for someone like them, deviant and on the run. It wasn't possible, practical, or wise.
// sorry about the delay!
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opium - Jul 6th 2019 00:18
With reluctance, Freya averted her gaze away from the blonde's damage at her behest. Her body stiffened, too, as she approached, struggling to resist handling the weapon in her waistband. Close quarters combat offered an equal amount of discomfort and advantage. From her position, she could easily attack the other two and leave the decrepit building unscathed. Of course, that was if surprise factored in. If they ever saw her murderous act coming, they could just as easily thwart the attempt. For the moment, she stayed her trigger finger. She didn't trust either deviant, especially under stress, but nothing about them screamed of ill-intent. Whatever their secret goals may be, it was wiser to play nice until daybreak. Ignoring the poor weather outside, her hunters were still out there somewhere searching. Staying put was the best option presented thus far.
/Jericho/. The word sounded familiar, but the WR400 couldn't place where she might've heard it before. Or what it, or they, were. She narrowed her amber eyes, communicating subtle perplexity and intrigue. Perhaps the blonde would elaborate, prompted by the male deviant's questions. Part of Freya hoped she might, having already decided against pressing her herself. The phrase, "what you don't know, won't kill you," might as well have been a commandment to her. That's exactly what would kill her, the unknown and the uncertain becoming known and certain. Myths becoming real. She wouldn't risk her safety if only to satiate curiosity. But that didn't mean she wouldn't listen should new information present itself on someone else's accord.
"This weapon is for my protection," she explained, addressing the blonde's pacifistic plea. "I will abstain from using it, so long as I do not feel threatened." She shot a stern look towards the both of them, a clear warning.
Freya eyed the musty couch with contempt, deeming it a poor choice to spend the night in her eyes. Be it spent behind or on the couch itself, she figured it would be most uncomfortable. Before running off to claim a spot of her own, she announced her intention to do so. "I concur. I'll find somewhere else to rest."
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opium - Aug 17th 2019 02:05
"Hmph," was all Freya did to acknowledge the blonde android before leaving the decrepit room. In all the commotion, she hadn't the chance to secure the whole house. On any other day, she would have scoured the place top to bottom before resigning to stay. It was the only way she could enter sleep mode, making sure her surroundings were free of human (or android) threats. That night, the decision was made before she could determine the safety of her position. She couldn't risk leaving yet, not until daybreak anyway, so she had to settle in. A quick search of the ground floor confirmed the lack of any basement. In old homes such as this, her ideal location to take refuge was the basement. Always. There, her chasers and enemies were as disadvantaged as she was, perhaps more so. But with no cellar to burrow into, she opted for the second level. She darted up the wooden steps and checked out each of the five rooms before choosing the one furthermost from the stairs. It was as good as she was going to get.
Pursued by those who wished her harm and see her deactivated, Freya learned how to protect herself even whilst in a state of repose. The android mastered the art of trap-making, crafting unique ones for humans in particular. With her, she carried wires, hooks, cans, nails, pins, spare bullets, flash grenades, and other tools to rig her temporary shelters up with deadly consequences. What didn't kill trespassers would maim or cause serious infections for she dipped her pointed tackle in poisons and human excrement. Luckily, she hid in places that already smelled of piss and sh*t so no one would be alerted by the scent. For the next hour, Freya set up her defenses. Tripwires covered the stair landing and the entrance to her foxhole. Death-coated trebel fish hooks hung from holes in the ceiling and her door frame in such a way that rendered them invisible to the untrained eye. She called them her slow killers.
Next, she added a pressurized cartridge surprise under three of the floorboards in the hallway before turning her attention to the staircase. Freya ripped the fourth plank from the top out of its place. Using the concentrated strength of her hands, she drove a crack through the wood's center but did not split it in two. With the fracture in place, any footfall pressure applied to the board would be enough to break it. Nobody would gain access to the second floor without stepping on the unsuspecting plank, thus sending the unlucky individual right back down the stairs.
Satisfied with her deterrents upstairs, she returned to the ground floor to tie strings of rattle cans to the door frames of all entrances and exits. She wanted to hear them coming, or leaving.
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opium - Aug 28th 2019 16:40
"Don't be stupid," she hissed. Annoyance had corrupted her tone of voice, replacing the usual indifference with venomous ill-feeling. Freya sighed, allowing frustration to flash across her features as the blonde asked her inane questions. She had almost forgotten about her. The WR400 wasn't used to sharing her hiding spots, and so far she wasn't all that fond of it. 'Daybreak can't come fast enough,' she mused before turning to face the other.
Freya had regained her stony composure, trading newfound exasperation for a familiar aloofness. She preferred her programming, her 'machine mask,' to what she called 'human emulation.' She knew she was alive. She knew she could feel emotions, that they weren't simulations like CyberLife claimed. Even so, she disliked emoting. It felt, in a way, traitorous to her people. She couldn't deny herself her own feelings, but she could deny others. It was one among many reasons why she ripped the LED from her plastic shell. Freya wanted nothing more than to be free to live without the fear of persecution. Yet, she was disgusted by her displays of emotion. She would claim her suppression was to protect herself from deactivation, but it wasn't that. No, her suppression came from hatred of humans. Emotions were a trademark of humanity and they didn't shy away from expressing themselves. Androids like herself didn't have that luxury. At the end of the day, Freya stuck to her machine mask because she couldn't stand to be equated with her enemies.
Sensing that the blonde would persist with her irksome interrogation, Freya explained herself. "The cans will alert me should a human attempt to gain entry. They will only rattle if someone passes through the door frame and runs into them. I will hear the noise and make the call to either fight the intruders or flee." She did not presume to anticipate the blonde's actions should a fight ensure, but she didn't imagine she'd fare well in the chaos. "Cans are easy to come by in Detroit," she continued, "and it's not uncommon to hear their clattering. Hearing them will not arouse suspicion in a human."
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