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Veronica Markie-O-Vello
Veronica Markie-O-Vello
| Gender:Female Name: Veronica Markie-O-Vello Age:58 Height:6'2 Eye color: Off Yellow Hair color: Fading Ginger Health status: Slow decline Favorite food: Mushroom soup Favorite drink: Malt whiskey Previous Career: Bank Manager | | Demeanor: Harsh Union Loyalty: Unrelenting Current status: City forty-three administrator Trusted Minister's : Illarion Morozov & Harold Anderson Favorite game: Chess Work ethic: Excellent Relationship status: Single Sexual Preference: <-Redacted-> |
𝓔𝓪𝓻𝓵𝔂 𝔂𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓼
| Veronica, was an only child, born and raised in Cork, Ireland. Her father's name was Patrick, with her mother's being Felice. Her up bringing was rather mundane, due to her father being a milk man for the local shop in the area and a chimney sweep on the side. The money coming into the home was slow, making their lives more of a hand to mouth affair, whereby as the food was bought, it was consumed that very same day. Her mother was an excellent house keeper for the family, always making sure that the washing was kept up with, house being kept tidy and getting the dinner ready to put on the table for five O’clock sharp. Veronica was a bundle of love and joy for her parents, as they had been trying for years to conceive a baby and by their ages now, 53 and 54 respectively, they finally had some meaning to their life, a purpose that they could both reveal and enjoy. Almost every day, Felice would wake up at seven in the morning, taking Veronica out of her cot and setting her up in the cot down stairs for her breakfast. Patrick, would by now have got up and gone to work, leaving with his lunch in hand along with a briefcase, which in those days was a common sight to behold. The daily routine for the family during Veronica’s early stages was very much the same, week in and out. This mostly consisted of her mother doing the house work alongside watching and playing with her daughter, whilst Patrick was out working and bringing home the bacon. |
𝓓𝓲𝓯𝓯𝓲𝓬𝓾𝓵𝓽 𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓵𝓭𝓱𝓸𝓸𝓭
After many years had passed, Veronica was now at the age of ten. She was in the later years of her primary education at their local school. She had many friends, who she would run around and play with during break time. Her progress was slow and difficult, having previously suffered a brain injury from falling down the stairs. This left her with some minor, but permanent damage to her facial muscles and would find it hard to smile for very long periods of time. Her eye lids drooped on occasion from the exhaustion of having to constantly put in the effort to keep them open. She was taken to see a doctor many times over, but they always received the same answer, in that she was alive, well and living her life happily enough, that any surgery could make it worse and ruin what ability she had. Due to this, Veronica received bullying on a weekly basis from some of the other children in the school. They would call her names such as “Little miss upset” or “droopy face”. Of course, this would seem very minor to an adult if they themselves were on the receiving end, but Veronica was still only ten years old at the time and would take a lot of these things to heart. This would set a president for things to come in the future, setting her on a path of failure in the rest of her educational years | Moving forward to her years in secondary education, Veronica was now sixteen. Her facial impairment had not improved and, if anything, had gotten worse as time went on. The muscles that work to lift the mouth had completely diminished, giving her a permanent frown, whilst her eyes portrayed a constant look of despair and sadness. As a result of all this, she had gone though many more years of torment and abuse from her peers, seeing some of her friends leave and disassociate themselves to avoid being dragged down with her. Subsequently, this sent Veronica into a manic depression, causing her to slow down rapidly in her studies. V’s final grades were appalling as a result, making her the worst student in her year at the time and forcing her to re-do them all over the next year after. With the extra tuition and a small determination to get herself into a better position, she got the grades she needed to leave education all together and get a job in a local post office, where she spent the next ten years working. |
𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓪'𝓼 𝓐𝓭𝓾𝓵𝓽 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮
| Fast forward to 2003, Veronica was now forty-three years old and working as a banker in her local branch. She had done exceedingly well over the years, taking extra classes in her spare time to improve her mathematic skills, starting out as a till working at the age of twenty nice and moving up the ladder to her current role as branch manager. She was single and lived alone, having spent most of her adult life in solitude, away from others that may have picked on her facial impairment. At this stage of her life, she had very much lost all feeling in the majority of her face, just being able to open her mouth enough to speak and formulate words coherently enough for others to understand what she was saying. Thankfully this did not affect her ability to eat or drink, given that she had full control over her jaw functions in that regard. Her plight would however cause people to get the wrong impression of her all the time, as they often made comment on how she always looked miserable at work and would never greet people with a smile. This never deterred her from performing at her best in the roles she worked in, building on her determination and sheer will to impress, proving to be one of her strongest traits by far. Given how she was now the manager of her local bank, she got a lot of attention from the media. This further added to her misery, seeing her face crop up in the local and national newspapers on the odd occasion. Thankfully, her work was never hindered by those naysayers as she continued to thrive and make great strides in her career. |
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𝓢𝓲𝔁 𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓸𝓯 𝓗𝓮𝓵𝓵
| Upon the outset of the war, Veronica and the rest of the staff all bunkered down inside one of the banks many vaults, hiding from the combines attacking forces. The main structure of the bank was destroyed, leaving everyone inside trapped, unable to escape the rubble that now lay over the top of the staircases leading down to the vaults below. They had minimal provisions of food and water at their disposal over the six days they were stuck there. For them, it was a literal prison. The power had gone out after the first three hours of their newfound home, plunging the room they were in, into total darkness, only being lit dimly by a single flashlight and a small lighter that someone had for lighting up their cigarettes. The temperature would soon start to fall as well, given how the heating had now stopped working through the lack of power. This all paled in comparison to what was happening above them and throughout the rest of the world, with millions of people fighting a losing battle against the combines overwhelming forces. After two days, the food supply had diminished significantly and the temperature in the vault had plummeted to minus two degrees Celsius, but were all able to keep warm by burning some of the paper and wooden chairs inside. Unbeknownst to all however, the war outside had already been lost, giving way to the combine and their new regime over man. It took several days of digging and rubble removal to escape the clutches of their ever-darkening prison, resulting in a couple of the employees getting a broken arm. Medical help for these individuals was limited, due to the little resources they had available to them at the time. Chairs and other office materials were used as make shift splints, utilizing some of the stationary to bind it all together. After their free, but unwanted stay within the bank's depths, they all made it out and back to the surface again, mostly unharmed. It wouldn’t have been long until they got picked up by the combine patrols and soon carted off to their relevant cities, Veronica’s being city forty-three |
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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓝𝓮𝔀
Veronica was taken to city forty-three, where she now resides indefinitely. Her life here resembled much of her former years, taking constant criticism from people about how she looked and spoke on a daily basis, whilst also holding down a job in the local new agents as a printing clerk. The constant belittling was something she had by now become accustom to and was able to shrug it all off for the most part. Work shifts were a common occurrence in forty-three, as with many other cities around the world. More often than not, Veronica would be seen attending them as she tried to keep her head down and avoid the eyes of the civil protection, through fear of them beating her for the affliction she had lived with for so long. With this in mind, her outlook on the way society had now succumbed to be was something to be revered. She had an ideological way on how to make her new home a better place for all to live, but was unable to make any attempts at implementing it as a mere printing clerk. She set out to climb the inner ranks of the combine civil authority after she obtained a tier four level, first starting as a basic admin for the city's general logistics network. This mainly consisted of logging the various shipments that went to a from the city, whilst handling all the communications between the different departments and recording the correspondences between them. Veronica did this for several years, moving up the tier chain in the meantime and attaining a level six. Her efforts had not gone unnoticed. The city administrator at the time, offered her a position as one of the ministers, taking command of the financial sector and controlling all of the city funds, which was a walk in the park for Veronica. She eventually made it as high as the vice administrator, spending the next six years working alongside Gerald Constantine, trying to implement the union's demands. he would be successful, in keeping the population of the city under his firm thumb for many years, treating all of those under tier two as scum, and worse so for the underclass. Anyone in these positions had to work extremely hard, at all hours of the clock. Most of the tasks for these, people, would entail heavy manual labor. The moving of machinery, tools and equipment being relegated to those who didn't conform with the unions ideals, overseen by the workers union and their management. <DISCLAIMER> This is in the process of being re-written. Please allow me some time to write the last section again. Thanks!  |
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