Veronica Mercury d13 done

[note: because ronnie prefers it, I'll be referring to her using she/her/hers etc. if her preferences change then I'll change it.]

Veronica Mercury is built short and dependable, just like her mama. Covered half-heartedly in a thin veil of pale skin, she's glad to know the sun can't touch her way down under the thirteenth district's ground (her mama tells her stories of the woods and travellin', and says there's a yeller sun so hot it burns you red and pain stands between you and your white skin again) and warily watches what few dark freckles threaten her face and arms. Veronica has clumsy hands and legs as look like they're made of knees. Her feet, at least, have some grace to them, what that she's perfected the art of delicate barefoot soundlessness (not out of fear, it's just she don't like to hear her own shoes slapping and the floor is cool against her heels). Veronica's recently been trying - and failing - to ignore an advancing pair of Lady Identification Parts. Luckily at fourteen years she can still get away with tee shirts loose enough that she don't have to worry about anyone noticing.

Veronica's literally still gifted with the face of innocence: a round, flat sort of thing, broken only by a prominent triangle nose and dark shadows that make her eyes look to be sticking out some. Not a bad thing, since she got her papa's pensive blue-grey irises and anyway she's embraced a knack for keeping 'em wide. Clumsy-cut oily brown hair comes usually to her eyebrows and is almost long enough to cover her big ears.

Characterized by curiosity but shadowed by self-doubt, Veronica often has difficulty interacting as much as she'd like with the people around her. She's often consumed by fantasy and a compulsion to look into all possible ways that an event or conversation could play out. Sometimes real life disappoints, but most times it thrills and exceeds. Unfortunately, she herself disappoints: many of Ron's self-esteem issues stem from a feeling of dissatisfaction with her own words, actions, thoughts. The right things to say or do never come to her at the right time; always too early or too late.

During conversation, Ronnie is very often effervescent, teeming with energy and enthusiasm. If the other person is not forthcoming with the same desire to talk and share, she usually assumes they haven't become comfortable around her yet and aims to fix it by launching into one of her elaborate, exaggerated tales. These are generally pretty mundane stories, because her life isn't terribly exciting, but she finds a way to infuse them with life - usually by stretching the truth a bit. (The stories are all true to Veronica, who absolutely believes even the exaggerated parts because she trusts herself enough to believe anything her imagination does to 'enhance' a past event.) If her conversational partner does not open up after being chattered at, Ronnie tends to become confused and bashful. She hasn't quite figured other people out yet, and this is where it reflects: if she hits a dead end, she'll usually stand there with her jaw hanging slack rather than backtrack and take a different fork in the road.

Veronica Mercury is genderfluid. Some days she doesn't mind her high, quivering voice or the skirts that are part of girls' uniforms in District 13; some days they embarrass her to the extreme and Ron wrinkles his nose when his parents call him Veronica because the name just isn't right! Most of the time, though, Ronnie's somewhere in between - neither minding nor embracing the fact that everyone assumes a girl's body holds a girl. She wants people to refer to her as whatever is right and comfortable to them; even on days when she fully male-identifies, Ron at most will harbor some resentment for female pronouns but won't speak out because he doesn't want to cause anyone discomfort. Mostly, Ronnie just avoids thinking hard about it, a much easier solution than trying to assign a concrete meaning to the shifting and effervescent nature of her identity.

Veronica's mother is a kind, supportive woman in her late 40s; her father is a silent, self-destructive type who rarely manipulates or becomes angry at other people, but rarely shows overtures of affection. The father snuck into District 13's insurgent army long ago, when he was 16. The bombings and the brutal, crushing defeat 13 suffered to the Capitol left him with crippling PTSD that haunted the man for decades. He found a job working in one of the many cafeterias of 13, hoping that the constant clanging of pots and pans would desensitize him to loud noises. It didn't.
Sometime after his 50th birthday, he began going out with an incredibly kind and sweet woman almost 20 years his junior (she asked him out first). They fell madly in love: she adored his quiet thoughtfulness and he realized one day that he tuned out loud noises when she was around. There was something healing about being in the company of someone born after the war.

Veronica's parents shaped her way of looking at the world through their experiences and attitudes. The questions her father wouldn't answer were to her like a closed door: they honed Ronnie's curiosity far beyond its natural tendency. From her father she also picked up a tendency to turn negative impulses inward rather than lashing out. It helped her keep a cool head and a considerate attitude toward those around her, but also closed off an avenue of healthy self-expression. Ronnie's mother's kindness encouraged her creativity and became an unfailing positive beacon to her, but the fact that her mother did not define to her any limits on what was appropriate or acceptable left Ronnie confused in social situations, lacking a sense of etiquette.

Veronica's childhood was fairly straightforward, aside from the occasional identity struggle or the realization that her dad was much older than those of the other kids. She was born, she ate, slept, cried, pooped, etc, went to school. She's an average student, only putting in effort for teachers who are knowledgeable enough about their subjects to answer her questions. Ronnie loves to read anything she doesn't understand but becomes impatient with things she does. She tends to use 'big words' in the wrong context. Ronnie doesn't tend to get into any sort of trouble, leaving exploration and tomfoolery to her storybook heroes.

she sees mirages and mountain ranges / but in the blink of her eyes it changes / back to the open plain / oh no she can't explain