My name is Marissa Ronson, otherwise known as Tweed. I've made this account without my boss's knowledge so I can recruit others for EchoSix. If you're interested, you know what to do. Otherwise, I'm a kick-ass redhead who is sarcastic and witty to a fault. I'm all about the mission when it comes down to it, but don't expect me to act like it. Anywho, go ask me something, but I won't answer right away because, more than likely, my pain in the ass boss has me out on a mission. I'll answer you when I can. See ya! ((Indie rp/ask blog for Tweed from Operation Raccoon city))
Tweed was wearing a skimpy nurses outfit. Stereotypical; the nurses cap & even white fishnet tights to match. A drunken bet she obviously lost to Party Girl on Hallows Eve. Her flushed face matched the fiery red of her hair as she observed herself in the mirror. "Oh, bloody hell." Although she had to admit, her ass looked great.
//I DON'T KNOW WHO SENT THIS BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU
It is literal perfection I just. You captured her.
This is Tweed's outfit (despite the fact that she will kill me) for Halloween. Done. Nonny, whoever you are, come back off anon so I can love you for this.
A sigh. "HUNK asked generally the same question not long ago. I regret the lives that have been lost on my watch, though there were few. That soldier should have been saved but... well, what's done is done.
I regret leaving home, sometimes. America may have once been British territory but it's next to nothing like it now. Homesickness is bollocks.
Occasionally, I regret isolating myself. Then I think of the arseholes I have to deal with on a daily basis and I realize that, no, I don't."
Zombie: Do you miss anyone right now
A moment of thought. "I miss my team. I haven't seen any of them in ages. They've all buggered off to who knows where."
She looks up from her book, surprise and disdain written on her face. "Oh bloody hell. You looking for aggro, mate?" She gets up, reaching for the gun she keeps beneath her pillow before pausing. "Hang that...are you plastered?" She could smell the liquor coming from him from across the room. "Blow me, you are! I didn't think you could get rat arsed. Don't you have a tolerance?" She shook her head. "Never mind. Just tell me where the hell you need to go, I'll get you there, and then we'll forget this happened."
//For the slang, aggro means trouble, blow me is a term of surprise, and both plastered and rat arsed means drunk. She dislikes you but she can't shoot someone who can't even stand steady on his feet so she's gonna get rid of you as fast as she can and make you someone else's problem. XD Sounds about right, huh?
"Have there been any circumstances when you've failed to disarm a bomb? If so I'd be thrilled to hear this story."
A scowl and glare. "How in the hell do you think I managed to get injured during my time with MI6? It was a bomb disposal job. One I managed to botch." A shift on her feet, indicating she is uncomfortable revealing the details. "I was involved in Operation Desert Fox -you know how the Iraqi's love their bombs- and I was needed to disarm a bomb on a US hostage taken days earlier. Needless to say, the soldier got it worse than I did."
//You're broaching a touchy subject here. She feels guilty about the soldier. This is also a personal headcanon for myself.
the115project said: [I’ve been meaning to RP with you for awhile now but I’m like 500% potato]
//No but that's totally okay and you are not potato unless you are kawaii potato. Anywho, I kinda poofed for a while and just came back not too long ago and I've been away for so long that everyone intimidates me again. ^^" So take your time! I'm just getting back into the swing of things.//
How was it that you learned about Echo Six and what was it that compelled you to join the Special Operations divisions of the United States Government?
"Oh bloody hell. It's been ages since then.
I never knew about Echosix. I wasn't aware of it's existence for some time. In fact, the only reason I ever joined Echo was because I managed to get injured while serving in the MI6, and they took me out of active service. Apparently, where I was no longer useful in the UK, the US government coveted my skills as a demolitions expert and excellent reconnaissance experience. 'Course I joined. I wasn't ready to trade in my uniform for mufti's."
(Hi Nonny~. Nice to see ya. Excellent question for Tweedy bird. Hope this helped! By the by, mufti's means 'civvies' or civilian clothes, just in case you didn't know. :3 Send more questions!)
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