Leandra Alex Gonzalez

[leandragonzalez]

Leandra Alex Gonzalez

---

Full Name- leandra alex gonzalez ;;
Nicknames- lea, lee, alex, lex ;;
Gender- female ;;
Occupation- waitress && retired medic ;;
Age- 25 ;;
Date of Birth- 1986 ;;
Sexual Orientation- straight ;;
Location- the bronx ;;
Faction- civilian ;;
Celebrity Claim- michelle rodriguez ;;
What should we call you?- roy ;;
Play anyone else?- nada ;;
Have You Read the Rules?- Zombies, man. They creep me out.

---

Personality-

DETERMINED. She's lost a son and she's determined to get him back no matter what. She does what she has to and finishes stuff she started. She's a fighter but also a lover, she knows what is right and what is wrong. Determination keeps her living through each day and despite the low hopes of ever living to a ripe old age, her spirit fuels her everyday to do what she has to survive.

BITCHY. She can be one heck of a bitch if you dare provoke her. A mother losing her son plus past experiences of being in the army isn't exactly a nice mix if you'd ask me. No, of course she won't bitchslap you or mouth things at you. She'd rather bite and you better be prepared to have broken bones and dislocated joints after. Leandra puts one hell of a fight. Not that she'd ever done it at camp. She's been quiet after all.

THINKS. Unlike others who do stuff on impulse, she at least takes time to think things through despite being in tight situations. Better be sure of what you're doing and focus on the task at hand rather than having second thoughts and ultimately, losing focus enough to drop your head. She may not be the smartest person but she knows enough to keep her living. Like choosing life over love, or survival over sharing. That sort if thing.

CARES. But then, she was once a medic. And all medics have an uncanny habit of helping. She's been trying hard to keep this bad habit of hers down but recently, with all the stress and shit the camp's gone through, she'd been somehow trying her best to help without having eyes acknowledging her. The whole point was to keep a low profile and unless she found her brains, she'd be in deep trouble soon.

Likes-

• comfy bed ;;
  
• shower ;;
  
• clean undies ;;
  

Dislikes-

• mercy killing ;;
  
• sleeping on dirt ;;
  
• running out of ammo ;;
  

Strengths-

• brave ;;
  
• intelligent ;;
  
• bitch ;;
  

Weaknesses-

• caring too much ;;
  
• fair judgment ;;
  
• optimist ;;
  

Skills-

• can handle any type of weapon ;;
  
• army training ;;
  
• medicinal background ;;
  

Flaws-

• will not kill unless completely necessary ;;
  
• will do anything to survive ;;
  
• would rather stay in a corner than present herself, though finding it kinda hard ;;
  

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Hair- black, long, silky curls ;;
Eye Color- dark chocolate ;;
Race- latina but asian ;;
Physique- slim but toned ;;
Height- 5'6" ;;
Weight- 120 lbs ;;


Birthplace- manila ;;
Mother- mrs. gonzalez, filipina, p.a., whereabouts unknown ;;
Father- major gonzalez, mexicano, retired, whereabouts unknown ;;
Siblings- only daughter ;;
Other- child: mario jesus gonzalez, last seen with neighbor, whereabouts unknown ;;

History-

Leandra Alex Gonzalez had a very normal, human life. Stress on normal, nothing apocalyptic, no crazy bullshit stuff. She liked it and preferred it. Except for the fact that she'd once kill an innocent boy. It was a mission back in the days of her life as a medic, a position she chose despite her offers of being squadron leader. She didn't like killing, be it a bad person or good. All that mattered was she knew more than most of the men in her time, being a girl, that was more than enough.

Her team had been stationed in the Philippines, to be exact, in Mindanao, were constant wars between militant groups threatened to shake the peace of the small archipelago. The little contract the country had with the US allowed soldiers from the latter country to come and go as they pleased, meddling with other people's affairs.

It only took a little wrong, a little testosterone and a little arrogance that her team almost bled to death. She'd been too busy stitching wounds and snapping bones into places that her nerves herself were strung too tight, from the men in her group and the amount of blood it had caused. The little movement in her hind sight just about did it to make her reach for her pistol and shoot, without fore warning. A body slumped to the floor and she continued on her patients, crawling amidst the flying bullets and horrid screams. Back here was where the wounded were taken, the movement she'd caught had been too sneaky and too quiet to be one of her team. The fact that it came from an opposite side where enemies would most likely ambush them only made her assumptions more solid.

As the gunshots died down and the adrenaline started to leave her blood stream, she leaned against a tree trunk, making sure the wounded had been helped to the best of her knowledge before checking around for the body she'd shot. A little boy lay sound asleep from where she remembered she'd pointed her gun at. She froze. Her heart skipped a beat. Her breath caught in her throat.

"You shot... without waaa-rning," a soldier gasped. "Kid must've been looking... for safety anddd... you shot without warninnng." he continued, his voice ragged. "I wouldn't... blame you though... Not like we had the pleasure of takin-" his speech was cut short the blood loss taking its effect. They were lucky back-up came and they survived. Merely. A bullet nearly gave her a headshot plus other shots that scraped her skin, one finally landing into her arm.

It had been a bloody day.

And it was probably her last mission.

...

...

Back in her home in the suburbs of The Bronx, she'd applied for a job as a waitress, the location about in Manhattan, a train ride from home. The place was called "White Horse" and every night, after her shift, she had a man chasing after her. There were a few flirting, and a few dates, but none of the men worked out for her. Or she didn't work out for them as soon as her little boy was introduced. Some almost ran to the door the minute they saw a kid come into the picture. Their loss, she'd always thought, already used to rejection.

Her boy was her only means of surviving, of living. She couldn't believe she left the boy alone with her parents back when she was still serving in the army. For all the problems being a single mom caused her, having her little angel was enough to counter all the bad and even more. She'd handle, she knew she could, she still had money in the bank and she knew they'd survive with no man or not. It was a struggle, but definitely worth it.

...

...

But then maybe not everything could only be just a struggle.

Anything else?- i dun think so ;;

---

Sample RP-

"I'll be off Mr. Rodriguez!" Leandra called, relieved that another day had gone by. No dates for tonight though, she thought. Guess word about her son had gone around. Still, she kept her head high. She'd do well without a man, and be better off without a man. Reaching the backdoor, she overheard the radio coming from her boss' room, the man preferred old than new. She paused on the knob and the knob when she heard national state of emergency, the announcer sounded pretty serious. A woman screaming from outside the door only added more.

Lea gulped and walked out, horrified to see a man eat the woman while she weakly fought it off. Blood splattered everywhere and with one final heave of her lungs, her intestines came out. Leandra had seen enough wounds and war scars but what she saw didn't even match her experience with gore. The man, somehow dazed and had a blank look on him, heard her sudden intake of air and ran for her. Leandra knew better than to stare, she shut the door and ran for the bathroom.

Making sure outside was clear, her military instincts kicking in like she'd never left in the first place, she hotwired the first car she saw and drove straight for the station. There was an occasional scream from inside dark alleyways but she paid no attention, her son the greatest of her concerns. She cursed at not having any weapon on her, wishing she had her shotgun from home. But then why would she bring a shotgun to work. "Hi Boss. I just thought I'd be prepared in case a man touched my ass in a most unflattering way." She rolled her eyes and halted at the entrance, running down the stairs two at a time. The streets surprisingly, were clear of anybody and with how late it was, it was pretty normal that there wouldn't be anybody on the platform with her. She waited and kept fidgeting, unable to keep the worry inside her from showing. She had to get home fast.

As the train came in sight, she froze, she hadn't thought clearly about what she was doing. The train could've been infested with what she'd seen earlier. She hated too that she was right. She hid behind a column and prayed to God nothing would come at her. The train doors closed and on it went, the driver seemingly unaware yet of the chaos. She paused and sucked in a breath she didn't realize she'd held in. A moan escaped someone else's mouth from beside her and standing straight, one of the flesh-eating humans lunged at her. She screamed, stuggling against getting herself eaten or bitten. A quick kick in the groin didn't help, but a hard kick against its knee made the attacker bend on its knees, allowing her to give it a solid punch in the jaw before it lay on the ground. She caught her breath and started backing away towards the exit, more of those things blocked her way. She retreated back to the platform and thought fast.

Before long, she was walking along the tracks. About a quarter of a train's ride away, a train sped by her and she gripped the cracks in the wall, holding on for dear life. She could smell the stench of blood coming with the air the train brought. She walked on, knowing that it'd prolly be safe underground. About a halfway through, she heard the unmistakable sound of an explosion from far away, the ground beneath her shaking. Quickly, she backed away and headed for a door she'd passed by, getting into the sewage system. In case she wanted to stray farther away from home, she peaked out of a sewer and came face to face a dead man, its face unseeing, the eyeballs clawed out. She nearly screamed but stopped herself. Looking around, she saw familiar ground and closed the cover as fast as she'd opened it, heading down the ladder. The odor of filth and dirt smelled better than the stench from outside. How long had it been? 2 hours?

She was a few blocks from her home.

Turning corners and backtracking, occasionally checking the outside, she felt triumphant when she reached the sewer hole directly across her apartment. Wasting no time, she checked for any signs of danger before running full speed to her apartment.