How Very.

Veronica Sawyer affiliated with Citta Housed in district Gamma

[illimitexabominer]

Switcheroo!

Send me ‘Switcheroo!’ and I’ll write a short description or drabble about who I think your character would be, if they were reimagined to be part of my muse’s canon! 

Forger Veronica 

Rank: 11

Type: Defensive

Yoki: B

Agility: C

Muscular Strength: D

Spirit: B

Perception: A

Leadership: C

Born into a rich family, Veronica was educated from a young age. The future was looking right for the brunette, but the future is never sure. The day the Awakened Beings came was the worst of Veronica’s life. Her parents were supportive, if not completely understanding, and the loss of them was a huge loss to her. Without their support, it was no surprise her surviving family sent her off to the Organization.

Entirely alone, she did not bond easily with her class. In fact, the only one that she was really close to was Martha, a girl from a near by village who had been brought on the same day as Veronica. It was a difficult thing, but they learned to trust in one another. It was no surprise that they both ended up being defensive Warriors. However, it became clear that Veronica far surpassed her friend in terms of strength, and when they got their official ranks, Martha was ranked dead last.

Starting at Number 35, Veronica was given a territory in central Toulouse to patrol. It was far from her only friend, and so she got used to being on her own. It wasn’t until she was placed on an Awakened Hunt with the Heathers did she gain friends again.

Keep reading

[fiightforme-blog]

Event rp ad, cap of 2

[fiightforme-blog]

pyro-latry:

“Call me Willow. It’s a long time coming, gettin’ out of there.” Two thousand years was a long time, the more she compared it to the ages of the people around her. Nearly a ghost, she was. “I’ll assume it’s better off not having motor oil getting in it anymore.” 

“Don’t mind. Lost an arm once.” Willow shrugs, trying not to jostle Veronica in her work to fix her mess of hair. “A bit of scalp pulling is never going to be the end of the world.” 

 “Willow, huh? I’m Veronica.” She snorts. “I meant your natural hair oils, not motor oil.” Heather would get a kick out of this one... Maybe JD would at least chuckle.

 “Sounds like you’ve had a pretty wild life,” Veronica remarks. “Your hair might be better off housing a small rodent, but you look okay otherwise for someone who sets themselves on fire and lost an arm once.”

[fiightforme-blog]

nitikrty:

✫   𝒪𝒽, 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝓇𝒾𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈. A smart girl she is. Imposing that certain literary styles have different placements effectively dismisses the absence of hieroglyphs, without belitting them. ( Admittedly, she’d been a tad homesick. The evolved era has created a vast emptiness in her soul. ) “I see. I understand it fully.” Actually, she understands little. The artistic spin ruptures its clarity and she has since dubbed it abstract, but for some peculiar reason, she feels as if its relatable. There’s a loneliness about it that creeps up within her, but it’s got a familiar touch… how bittersweet.

      “Then, does that mean that you created this with your own thoughts?” Songs are closer to her craft, but songs require lyrics. A bard’s life is not quite suited to her talents, but perhaps she could be that missing link. “Why does it sound so sad? Are these pieces not meant to reflect what is within your own heart?”

 Veronica tucked a lock of her own hair behind her ear, suppressing the urge to laugh. It was clear from the stranger’s tone she didn’t really understand, but for now, Veronica wouldn’t call her on the lie. She was probably already feeling out of place enough, judging by her initial comment on the lack of hieroglyphs.

                            (Just what kind of place was this city, anyway?)

 “Me? Oh, no... I do write, but this is something from the library. I’d guess the author was probably pretty sad when they wrote this.” She ran her fingers down the page, tapping the poem she just read before continuing. “I’d love to get my work published like this, but I don’t think that’s very likely here... I’m not even sure if they have a newspaper here.”

 “You’re right, though... Usually the best poems are those that express something from within. It’s what I usually do, anyway. Have you ever written anything..?”

[theguardianofzone1-blog]

@fiightforme

-He was walking across the street was some blood on him mostly  on his fists and chest , apparently some people wanted to try and mugged him, it didn’t turn out in their favor as he kinda beat them into a bloody pulp, though the muggers manged to slash a cut on Dedan’s chest, causing some blood to leak form there, He sits down on a bench and starts cursing at the muggers for cutting him-

“They are going to be fucking lucky if they survive, Idiots attacking me, told them they that were going to be dead if they tried anything-He was talking to himself-

[fiightforme-blog]

 Seems she had a knack for finding bloodied up strangers who couldn’t keep their fists to themselves. The ratio of those who caused the fights and those who had the fight brought to them was pretty even, not that most would have you believe that. She assessed the current situation with a small sigh, eyeing the bleeding stranger from a bit of a distance.

 He wouldn’t need stitches... Probably.

 “You should probably be more worried about yourself,” she mused, walking over to him. “It’s not going to kill you, but you should get that cut checked out. Maybe not get into any fights for a while either.”

[antheiin]

@fiightforme

“Hey, honey.” Miriam’s voice comes with a particular ease, a brow quirked as she questions the woman before her. It’s not smothering, though, there’s a hint of worry as she looks over her shoulder, folding her hands and smoothing her fingers against her skin.

“You doing alright? You look a little bit more lost than you want to be in a place like this.” 

[fiightforme-blog]

 “Ah?”

 The soothing tone and genuine hint of worry in the stranger’s voice catches Veronica completely off guard, a small shudder running down her spine; usually worried words came through clenched teeth and with a heavy dose of passive aggression. She flicks her fingers, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. 

 “I, uh... Could be worse, I guess. Could be better, too...” She licks her lip. “Is it that obvious?”

[fiightforme-blog]

handsel:

“I admit that arithmetic has a way of being, faulty. It’s easy to mix up ones numbers. Such easy corrections, though.” Celestia hums, stumbling through her motions of twirling the chalk in her fingers. “There’s this next one, come here and take a look.” 

 “Yeah, but it’s usually pretty easy to find the right answer in the end.” Veronica grabbed her pad of paper and stood, making her way over to Celeste and looking over her shoulder at the problem. “Hm... Alright.” 

 She started writing things down, chewing at her bottom lip. “Okay... So first we need to figure out X. Should be simple enough.”

[irishhercules]

@fiightforme

Well, this was a hell of a place to get dropped into. Not only that, but for all he knew, the Grail screwed up something awful, seeing as how he didn’t even know the basics of what was going on. His spear was nowhere to be found, his powers were sealed by some weird magic, and for some reason, he was sensing the same number of Servants as he used to wandering around that facility. And to top it all off, those two were nowhere to be found.

“Geez. What the hell did I even get summoned into, anyway?…”

The Lancer scratched at the back of his head, then sighed. Where was he even supposed to start with all this? 

“Hey,” he said to the first person that wandered past. He was lucky enough that it was a pretty, younger woman, but that wasn’t his angle for the moment. “Any chance you’ve seen a girl around here, ‘bout this tall, bright red hair, kinda chipper? Goes by Gudako. A taller, dark-haired guy named Gudao works, too.”

[fiightforme-blog]

 Veronica was kind of starting to get used to this weird city and its weirder residents. That, and getting stopped on the street by said residents. It was a strange place to say the very least of it, but part of her knew she’d be numbed to it with enough exposure. 

 Strangers in skintight blue jumpsuits were still a bit of a different matter, however. 

 She froze for a moment, listening to his plight before stuttering out her response. Veronica had several questions, but knew that she’d likely find no answers. 

 “I... Uh, no, I can’t say that I have.” Those generic descriptions weren’t helpful, but... “I can help you look for them?”

[obscurato]

@fiightforme liked for a starter

{ ♠ }—  Sliske had no magic. Not that he forgot this fact; whatever those “scientists” had done stung in more ways than merely stripping him of aeons of power. No strength to dart into a realm unseen, no ability to slip away in the blink of an eye. All he had a glorified stick, and the distant hints of shadows that taunted at the edges of his fingers. It was… interesting, fascinating…

He shifts his arm, eyes the deep bite as he all but flops onto the ground. It hurt like hell.

And yet, he smiles, arm dropped to one side as he considers what to do next, til he spies a human, some paces away. Funny, the back streets weren’t safe for someone so pitiful looking. “You should walk faster. Wouldn’t want to be bitten by anything, would you?”

[fiightforme-blog]

 Veronica had never had magic.

 No, she had survived and lived her life with nothing but her own wit and stubborn nature, her smarts, and the occasional assistance of an angry boy in a trench coat who knew his way around a gun. That, and a cup of drain cleaner. Still, though weak in comparison to most (all) in this city, and generally left to her own devices (where was JD, anyway?), she wasn’t too afraid.

 That was until night fell. She didn’t intend to be out so late, but sometimes she just got so caught up in what she was doing and lost track of time. She could call JD, ask him to walk her home but... She’d hardly seen him, and he probably had better things to do anyway. Or something.

 So she found herself on the back streets, hand wrapped around the handle of a pocket knife she’d bought for herself when she realized things here were a little more dangerous than Sherwood. The voice startled her out of her already paranoid thoughts, her head turning to find the source. “Well, looks like you should take your own advice,” she mused, closing some of the distance and getting a bit of a better look. “... What got you, anyway?”

[cuttlefishsoldier-deactivated20]

@fiightforme liked your post “While I’m moaning in the rw about my grades, have a small starter…”

It was another friday night for him. The crickets were chirping, bugs were scattered and flying around and the sound of the shamisen was playing left and right. A relaxing night, all the while. 

Than he actually wakes up and finds himself face down on the floor, his nose squished against the ground. 

Background noise until language becomes recognisable to his ears. He listens all the while before the door opens. 

What is this, a new stage?

…

A deep breath. 

 “Can…anyone help me?”

//

[fiightforme-blog]

 The door to new adventure opened fairly frequently, it seemed; life had static, but lately the dull buzz was a welcome change from murder and constant drama. The shuffle of footsteps and vehicles was soft, the city relatively quiet in the late hours. 

 The soft call for help caught the brunette’s ears as she made her way down the street. 

 Where had she even been going?  She didn’t even really know.

 Smile, Sawyer. You’re still a Somebody, a Somebody who can’t turn away from those in need. Sometimes.

 She turned towards the voice, offering a small smile to the stranger.

“Depends on what exactly you need help with... Are you. Lost?”

[fiightforme-blog]

@eyndill

 Body language was an important thing to pay attention to in any situation, and with some, it was necessary to get a read and assess the situation. This stranger walked with a certain swagger; they reminded her a bit of JD, and very much of the way Heather Chandler confidently strode the halls of Westerberg.

 Still, that sort of confidence made the method of approach a bit difficult. Usually one should avoid such things unless they had something to offer. Lucky for her, in this case, she did. Wearing a somewhat apologetic smile, paper bag in hand, she walked over.

 “Hey there, uh... I bought myself breakfast, and they gave me an extra egg sandwich... I’m not really hungry enough to eat both, so, would you like one?”

[fiightforme-blog]

colorful headcanons.

( send me a copic color for a headcanon )

frost blue: does your muse enjoy the snow and cold? or are they the type to enjoy summer more?

peacock blue: is your muse honest? what sorts of lies do they tell, if not?

lapis lazuli: does your muse prefer the idea of exploring the depths of the oceans, or the boundless expanses of space more?

reddish brass: how likely is your muse to step up and take the role of a leader? are they willing to take the challenge, or are they more apt to being a follower?

burnt umber: how stable is your muse, mentally and/or emotionally?

champagne: does your muse drink (alcohol)? are they a heavy drinker, if so?

tea orange: what is something that your muse is fascinated with?

malachite: has your muse ever done anything that they winded up feeling incredibly guilty for in the end?

olive: is your muse prone to feeling envious of others? if yes, what is it that they typically feel envious over?

vermillion: is your muse courageous, or would they consider themselves to be more of a coward?

coral: what is your muse's romantic and sexual orientations?

bougainvillaea: would your muse consider themselves as blunt, or do they beat around the bush instead?

currant: what's something that absolutely disgusts your muse (can be a person, place, thing, ect)?

crimson: how passionate is your muse about the things they love most?

raspberry: what food and/or drink can your muse not get enough of? do they indulge in it often, or is it something reserved for special occasions?

baby blossoms: does your muse have a favorite scent? what is it, and why?

mallow: what sorts of things might remind your muse of those close to them? any scents, objects, sounds?

aubergine: does your muse prefer the day, or are they more of a night-owl?

acacia: how much does it take for your muse to hate someone?

cadmium yellow: what subjects or topics does your muse avoid, because they bring up harmful / painful memories?

honey: when your muse loves someone (whether it be romantic, platonic, or familial love), how do they show it?

chartreuse: if you had to describe your muse with a color, what color would it be and why?

anise: when it comes to self-care, what does your muse do to take care of themselves? do they take care to spend time on it, or do they feel they don't deserve it?

new leaf: what message would your muse send to their past self, if any?

moss: how easily does your muse adapt to any new situations they're thrust into?

silk: does your muse care about appearances much? do they spend a lot of time on their own appearance, or do they just go with the flow each day?

sanguine: does your muse typically have an optimistic, pessimistic, or some middle ground outlook on life?

atoll: if your muse could go anywhere, without any restrictions whatsoever, where would they go? why would they go there?

cool grey: if your muse could ensure one thing for certain in their future to come, what would it be?

black: does your muse have a 'bucket list?' list some things your muse wants to accomplish before they die.

[seamsteriori-blog]

How am I doing with my character? Tell me in the askbox, and I'll publish it without comment.

[fiightforme-blog]

pyro-latry:

She offers a crooked smile, an understanding laugh following at the comment about her hair. “I lived in the woods, understandable if it’s a little bit fucked. Old habits don’t die well.” Willow doesn’t either, it seems. Death is a difficult thing to wrap her head around. 

A deep breath, and she steels herself. “You can pull, I don’t care if you do.” Soon, she nods. “Yeah. Make ‘em, wear ‘em. Totally fireproof.” 

 “Well, you’re still out of the woods now, stranger. The more you brush it, the more manageable it’ll be. Something about the oils that sit at your scalp needing to be brushed through and such...” She blinks, making a face as the comb gets a bit stuck.

 “I’ll stilll...” A yank. “Do my best. I know this sort of thing can really suck. If it makes you feel better, I’ve broken brushes in my hair, and I brush it daily.” Veronica can’t help but take a deep, slightly confused breath. “... Wear fire? That’s a new one. Still, that’s pretty impressive.”

[fiightforme-blog]

yggsdrasil:

Yggdrasil looks to the human girl who speaks to her, she smiles and looks at her confused. Oh! her leaf! Yggy looked for her booklet and stared writing on it.

‘Thank you! and yes, the leaf is part of me! do not worry, it does not hurt when its pulled and won’t grow any longer.’

 Part of her worried about the detail on whether or not pulling hurt, but... Good to know it wasn’t just a weird accessory? A unique feature to be sure. She reads the response and nods; at least the stranger was friendly.

 “Well that’s... Good. Does everyone where you’re from have one? I’m sure you guys don’t really eat your greens, huh? Oh! Uh, what is your name..?”

[iworshiipyou-blog]

Rough landing.

[fiightforme-blog]

iworshiipyou:

“Ah ah ah– beggars can’t be choosers, now can they?”

Naturally, the quip is delivered with the healthy weight of sarcasm that belies his agreeing with her. Really, as much as he wanted to joke about free cable, he wasn’t exactly the type to appreciate the company provided by a pre-recorded Orwellian speech. What, they really expected them to believe they were being watched and spoken to right this minute? He narrows his eyes briefly at the screen. Sure. Let ‘em watch.  They’re in for one hell of a show.

…And there goes Veronica, smiling for the second time in as many minutes. The gesture draws a smirk from JD in turn, taking her hand with a bit of a teasing, dramatic flair to the gesture.

“Lead the way, Veronica.” A shrug towards the door follows, his eyes never leaving her.

 “Beggars.... Riiiight.”

 When she had prayed for a change, this wasn’t exactly what she had in mind – she’d pictured more open fields framed with trees, shopping malls, and Slurpee runs, not whatever the hell this was.

 Still, JD was sort of right. It was better than nothing.  Better than Sherwood, at the very least.

 Part of her wondered if the speech would loop itself if they stuck around. It was certainly no Hot Probs, more like the exhaustive buzz of morning announcements or cafeteria gossip. You weren’t losing brain cells listening, but you weren’t gaining anything of particular importance either.

 Her smile widened a bit when he took her hand, and she gave his a small squeeze. 

 “Well, as nice as this hospital room is, I think it’s time we move on. So...” She opened the door with a flourish, eyes widening slightly at the sprawling city that was laid out before them.

 “We definitely aren’t in Ohio anymore.”

[fiightforme-blog]

handsel:

“Ah.” Her fingers are stained with the green dust, though, Celestia does little more than raise up onto her toes, wiping away the one error in her calculations, replacing and moving along to redo her work. “That would be what happened. That fixes–” a hand waves over the left side. “This entire debacle. What a relief.” 

“Sometimes it just takes an extra pair of eyes... And some more paper.” Veronica set down her notes, taking a breath and stretching with a small yawn. Somehow this sort of work was relaxing. “Any other problems that need solving? I feel like we’re on a roll.”