Veronica Peterson
ZOMBIE SLAYER • MONSTER HUNTER
"THE DEAD DON'T DIE" POST-CANON AU
MV • MS • 21+
RP Info
BASIC INFO
Modern AU
Verse-Flexible
Genderbent Ronnie Peterson
About 30 Years Old
Hard to Ship
MV • MS
Note: This is NOT a portrayal of Jessica Jones from the Marvel Netflix show.
I just use gifs from the show because they match Veronica's vibe and aesthetic.
RP RULES
Selective RP
DM's Open to Discuss Plotting
Crossovers Welcome!
Writing Style Flexible - Prefers Literate & Descriptive
Interacts with RP Accounts Only
Must be 21+ to Interact (Both Admin + Character)
Note: Accounts portraying a character who is under the age of 18 will be blocked, no questions asked, even if the admin is over 21.
CHARACTERIZATION
Veronica is dry and sarcastic, and often comes across as rude and abrasive. Her prickliness isn't personal. She is jaded and untrusting, and she will not be overtly friendly or flirty.
Veronica is shit at first impressions. She will absolutely be rude to your muse, even if they've never interacted before. She's an asshole. Period.
Please remember that IC ≠ OOC. Admin is friendly even if the character is not!
About
According to the script, I was supposed to die in that graveyard.
Nah. Fuck that.
Content/Character Info:
» Type of Character: Human
» Verse/Fandom: Fandomless, #SPNRP, #ZombieRP
» Face Claim: Krysten Ritter
» Name: Veronica "Ronnie" Peterson
» Age: 30ish
» Species: Human
» Height: 5'9"
» Hair Color: Black
» Eye Color: Dark Blue
» Gender: Female
» Pronouns: She/Her
» Sexuality: Bisexual
» Distinctive Marks: a few scars along her arms
» Likes: Bad sci-fi and fantasy movies, burgers, whiskey
» Dislikes: romcom's, clingy people, fruity drinks
» Personality: sarcastic and crass, empathetic but she hides it, pessimistic
» Skills: good with a machete, sneaky, great climber
» Family: none. What little family she had all perished in the zombie plague that swept her hometown.
» Occupation: former cop, current hunter.
» Weapons: machete, gun, knives
» Weaknesses: a really good milkshake
» Quotes:
"This isn't gonna end well..."
Note:
True to the nature of the source material - "The Dead Don't Die", Veronica will occasionally break the fourth wall, especially in interactions on the TL.
Admin
Experienced Writer
Female | 25+
Friendly
Open to Plot
CST Time Zone | USA
Slow replies to be expected on long form rp
--
Veronica is not my primary rp account, but her interactions are high on my priority list. Replies may be slow/sporadic. You can always check in OOC if you're wondering about a reply.
#pennedbyv
BACKSTORY
"Centerville, USA: A Real Nice Place"
The sign, once colorful and pristine, now stood in tatters at the city's limits. In a matter of days, the idyllic American town was gone, its citizens either fled or dead. Veronica was one of the few to escape.
She wasn't meant to. The script described her death in detail, torn down in a mob of zombies as the background music faded back into the theme song, Hermit Bob's monologue casting a gloomy pall over the grisly scene...
--
Veronica scoffed, tossing the script aside. "Fucking bullshit. What kind of fucking idiot drives into a graveyard in the middle of a zombie uprising? I don't care what Jim says, that's not how I'm going down."
--
Take two.
"So, Ronnie, how does it end?" Cliff's dry voice barely forms it into a question, seemingly resigned to his predetermined fate.
The script had been clear. "Well... we got to give it our best shot." Veronica's steely gaze never leaves the throng of undead just yards away from their stranded patrol car.
"'Our best shot.' Okay. Yeah. But then, it ends badly, right?"
"Uh, yeah... it's supposed to, anyway."
"Okay, then. Let's do it." Cliff turns to look at her, and for a moment, she'd swear it looked like he was about to smile, or crack a joke. Like he was clinging to the last shreds of the old Chief Clifford Robertson from Centerville, Ohio. Like he had no choice in the matter.
"Let's do it." The words come out empty. The last goodbye to a man who had been like a father to her for the past several years.
Cliff saunters into the graveyard, cigar stuck between his teeth and shotgun laid casually over his shoulder. For a few paces, Veronica matches his stride, but as they pass through the cemetery gate, she halts, watching him walk on, unquestioning, accepting the authority of the script in a way that set Veronica's teeth on edge.
Cliff might be ready to give in, but she wasn't.
Hermit Bob's monologue starts up, a haunting gravel timbre carrying over the grunts and groans. "Cliff and Little Ronnie. Warriors. Among the dead. Zombies. Remnants of the materialist--"
"Oh, can it, Bob, would you? For fuck's sake. No one gives a shit about your anti-capitalism rants right now."
Machete in hand, Veronica turns to the woods, disappearing into the shadows and leaving Centerville behind.