#zoë virtue
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tessavirtue17: Happy New Year!!
Farewell 2023 and welcome 2024. Can’t wait to see what this year has in store. Feeling so grateful for all of YOU!
Ps my ins and outs for this coming year (that no one asked for):
In:
Self-compassion
Unapologetic ambition
Rest days
Letter writing
Spontaneous travel
Lifting heavy weights
Out:
People pleasing (a work in progress!)
Over-scheduling
Scrolling before bed
Dimming your light for anyone that can’t handle it
Saving the candles / good dishes / nice shoes (Light them! Use them! Wear them!)
Early alarm clocks on Sundays
Share yours below!
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zoe robins . cis female . she/her ➶ I RECOGNISE THAT FACE ! that’s AMARANTH , the TWENTY SEVEN year old UNDERCOVER MEDIC from DISTRICT ELEVEN. they’ve been in the capitol around SIX MONTHS , long enough to gain a reputation for being so GENTLE & ALOOF . they’re so lucky getting to live in the tribute center for the duration of the games! ( character IS part of the uprising )
BASIC INFORMATION
full name: amaranth
nicknames: mara
age: twenty-seven
birthday: september 21
zodiac: virgo
district: eleven
gender: cis female
pronouns: she / her
orientation: bisexual
profession: harvester, healer, rebel, undercover medic
PHYSICAL APPEARANCE
face claim: zoë robins
hair color: black
hair style: braided, long- reaches down to the small of her back when not gathered up
eye color: brown
height: 5'8"
scars: a thin scar on her left cheek from a fall as a child, an entry/exit scar on her right shoulder from a bullet
RELATIONSHIPS
father: taurus ( deceased )
mother: evangeline
siblings: rue ( older sister, deceased ); osmanthus ( older sibling ), oleander ( youngest sibling ), two younger siblings
significant other: tba
EXTRA
mbti: infp-a ( the mediator )
temperament: melancholic
moral alignment: true neutral
primary vice: pride
primary virtue: charity
element: earth
BACKSTORY
TW: sibling death, gun violence
ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ: ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ
ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘᴀʀᴋꜱ
your mother carried you and your sibling together-- they against her heart while you grew under it and once you made you entrance into this world ( silent almost long enough for concern before letting that thin cry erupt from small lips and your parents breathed a sigh of relief ), you took the place against her heart while he rested against her back, the heat of the sun beating against the tops of your heads while she worked in the fields you would take your first steps in. sometimes the heartbeat would change- your father tying your sling against his barrel chest so your mother could rest or the fluttering rabbit heart of your big sister who patted your back with a hand that was still soft and round with her own baby fat as she held you against her chest, seeking shelter from the heat of the day under a shady tree -- but each beat of those hearts echoed with love. it takes a village to raise a child- much less three under the age of five- and you learn to be lulled to comfort by the sounds of your neighbors hearts as they lend their own arms and chests to carry you and your siblings as the days grow longer, the sounds of their voices whispering soft lullabies to keep you quiet and still. you wouldn't realize for many years just how little your family had but one thing that there was always abundance of was love-- you were raised on love, cradled by community.
oz learns to walk before you and little legs almost immediately start running after rue while you are still curled against those hearts and when your legs are finally strong enough to hold you and carry you up and down the rows of fruits and vegetables, you never venture far from your mother's skirts. another baby takes your place against her heart and then another. and then another-- and all at once, you're too big to be carried, too big to be held and lulled to sleep by the sounds of a heartbeat. too big to be carried but too small to follow after rue and oz as they scramble up to the tops of trees-- they try to teach you how to find the knots where your toes can grip, the branches that would support your weight and drag you upward-- but you're barely off the ground before fear paralyzes you and you scream out of fear. you don't stop screaming until your father's hands come to pluck you from the tree as easily as he would a low hanging apple.
he tells you to keep your feet on the ground and you cry, wailing about being left behind; rue and oz could flit from tree to tree as easily as the birds in the air but you-- you were planted deep in the earth, afraid to let yourself stray too far from the dirt that covers bare feet. some people were air- like oz and rue- and others were water- like your mother-- you were earth, planted and rooted. your father tells you that he's also earth and there's a peace in knowing that you share that with him; both of you planted with your feet firmly on the ground, firm and unmoving as mountains for the family that you love. and when oz and rue slip out like whispers of wind in the night to the fields, you stand watch beside the small and dingy window, large eyes waiting for them to come back on those feet guided by the air that whisked them one way or another-- always waiting for them to come back home.
ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟᴅ-ʏᴏᴜʀ-ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ, ʟᴇᴛ ʟᴏᴏꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ--
ᴡᴇ ʙᴜʀɴ ᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ
you're only seven when rue's name is called, holding your younger siblings hands almost too tight to keep them from trying to run after her, seeing your mothers hands biting into oz's shoulders to keep them from doing the same. you think you understand- you know that the names that are called on This Day are faces that leave the district-- and they never come back. you haven't watched the games before-- not really, not with any sort of attention that would tell you what is really happening on the screen-- you're just a child whose attention was always occupied with games that rue invented and there's a sinking feeling that this year, there would be no distracting stories or games to keep you from seeing what is played on the large screens. ( an even more sinking feeling that maybe you would have to come up with the games this year for the littles and knowing that you were never as creative as rue. ) you want to ask your father what it Means but there's a look on his face while your mother sobs that has the question shriveling on your tongue.
the littles can only pay so much attention- you understand, it wasn't so long ago that you were five and four and three-- and your mom and dad can't peel their eyes away from the screen. neither can oz. you try to keep them occupied, telling them the stories that rue has told you- imaginary tales she spun from the thin air that she seemed to be able to walk on- and playing games with the rocks and dirt around the feet of those who stand frozen, focused on the screens. there are times when you tug on oz's shirt, asking them to tell you what's happening-- and you act as if you have any idea what they mean when they answer you. there's a part of your mind that doesn't want to understand, that wants to reject the idea that rue would be among those that didn't come back-- and for a moment when they tell you about how rue has found a friend in the bigger girl from twelve, there's this thought that maybe she won't be. after all, you've seen it from the time you were born: none of us can do it alone; everyone needed someone. and when your eyes lift to the screen, your youngest sibling curled in your lap sleeping, you see the same sort of warmth and light in katniss' eyes that you've seen in rue's when she looks at you-- the same light you know is reflected in your eyes when you look at the littles. it soothes your heart a little; rue has found someone in That Place that loves her and you feel like maybe that chance of her coming home is greater than most would think.
you would think-- until your mother screams and your head snaps up from where you've got the littles gathered in the dirt at their feet, listening to another rue story that falls silent on your tongue at the image of your sister with red blooming against her stomach. you're not too young to understand death and it hits you in the same place- grief like a wound, ripped open by the image of your sister falling back into the arms of the girl from twelve who loved her and the sound of your mother screaming- and your hands are reaching for the littles, gathering them close to you like a mother hen as tears trace lines in the dirt on your cheeks. you huddle them around your mother, holding the skirt at her waist as you cry, pressing the littles' faces against your shoulders or tucking them against your mother's legs-- they shouldn't see, you don't want them to see ( you're not even sure if they fully understand or if they're just crying because everyone is ).
you're certain your mother will never stop crying-- her wails have quieted but the tears keep falling; your father's eyes are dry but the look in his face is not that of the earthy man you've always seen yourself reflected in. he almost smolders as he stands with his back and eyes straight and when hands start to lift in that silent salute, his almost shoots up and that fire in his face blazes. it all happens so quickly- the way he pulls from oz, from your family, charging like a bull down the aisle and your mother's panicked voice is telling you and oz to get the babies as chaos erupts. you gather oleander in your arms and reach for a small hand, shouting at oz to come on-- because you can see that same fire burning in his face and it scares you to death.
you lose your sister and your father in the same night.
ʟɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ꜰɪʀᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ, ʀɪᴠᴇʀ ᴊᴀɢɢᴇᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴄᴀʀ
ᴡᴇ ʙᴜʀɴ ᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟᴠᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ-- ᴀɴᴅ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʙʙʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ
a year later, you think you'll lose oz too; you're not sure if your mother can handle another loss. the district healer comes by every day with fresh bandages and poultices made from the wild plants that grow on the outskirts of the fields and you're fascinated. you hover when they visit, wide eyes taking in each step and questions falling from your mouth, a mind eager to learn. their hands guide yours, bringing bundles of wild medicine and they teach you their names, their uses and how they work together in different ways to help heal and as that hole in oz's side begins to heal- with the healer's and your aid- there's a feeling of accomplishment and a small fire lit in your own heart-- a passion. something that you could look at and see the good and help that it makes.
your days are spent in the fields, trying to pick up where rue and your father left off-- there are still mouths to feed and your mother is only one person now; she tells you and oz that she's lucky to have such strong children. you play second mother to your younger siblings, directing and guiding them when exhaustion sweeps over your mother-- you fight with oz when they continues to sneak out like the wind at night, particularly when it looks like one of those younger siblings might try and follow them in the way they had followed rue. you're a mother hen trying like hell to keep your chicks gathered under your skirts, safe from the storms in the district that brew like low hanging clouds filled with lightning or the predators that lurk just outside the door, ready with sharp teeth and bullets. your father is dead and now it's up to you- that earthen daughter, built from clay and rooted in the ground- to be the rock for your family; no one gave you this duty but yourself.
your nights are spent in the healer's home, learning the tricks of their trade. you learn how to create tea blends that ease headaches or muscle pains, poultices and salves that pull out the sting of the sun or an insect bite, how to set and bind broken bones. as those storms outside the doors continue to brew and those predators grow more bold, you learn how to dig out bullets-- how to prepare the dead for burial. it's something you throw in oz's face, tears standing in your eyes, when they try to sneak out-- how long before you're cleaning out another bullet hole in them? how long before you're washing and wrapping their body in linen to be buried? would they do that to their younger siblings who have already had to bury a father and a sister? would they do that to your mother? to you?
time goes on and you and oz stand in those crowds, waiting for names to be called and then your once-littles. the healer grows older and so do you and the time spent in the fields is exchanged for the cool of the healer's hut, surrounded by hanging herbs and flowers or walking across the district to whoever might need a healer's touch, a basket on your arm filled with natural medicines and hands that have learned the body and how to mend. you bring babies into the world and ease the pain of the elderly before they slip out of it. you soothe stings and burns and broken bones and sicknesses that whip through sections of the district like wildfire-- and you learn that a healer's price is higher than most can afford and you meet their needs with mercy, demanding nothing in return but accepting whatever blessings they give freely. you find yourself caught in that storm whether you want to be or not. you never ask for forgiveness from oz for your harsh words and your anger at being caught in the same storm- of being in the eye of it; you only reach for their hand to let them know that they won't have to walk through it alone.
until the day they have to-- your anger at them being caught, of their face being known as part of the eye of that storm and how it would bring those predators to your door, is smothered by the fear for their safety-- of the heartbreak of knowing you can't go with them. not when your littles still have to stand in the crowds on reaping day, not when your mother stands strong in the face of losing yet another child. you're the rock after all, the one who stands firm and unmoving. your mother sends them with food and water; you send them with medicine and your love and a promise: that once the danger of losing those younger siblings to the hunger games passes that you would join them in thirteen. oz would carve the way and you'd follow that path with the rest of your family.
you never hear from them again-- you don't know if it means they reached thirteen safely or not.
& ɪᴛ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏᴍᴇɴ
ɪ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ
years continue to pass and you mark the passing of time by those reaping days, breathing sigh after sigh of relief when they pass and your siblings are passed over by that angel of death. you devote yourself to that important work of a healer and the storm that continues to grow in district eleven, passing messages in tea bags and salves from those who couldn't move with the same freedom as a healer whose business takes them to all corners of a district. you watch those younger siblings and how they follow in the path carved by oz and your heart damn near stops when you realize it but the anger you had with oz has tempered over time to concern-- to worry. oh, how you worry about them.
you fall in love-- you don't expect it to happen and for a long while, you tell yourself there's no time for such things. but the two of you are caught in that same storm and before you know it, you're swept up in it and it's their hand that you reach for in the eye. you don't forget that promise to oz but for a while you pretend it isn't there-- you wonder if it's a promise even worth keeping, if they are even alive to still hold you to it. there are new promises whispered, foreheads pressed together and hearts that beat together with legs tangled; there are new dreams imagined and for once, you think maybe you understand the fire in oz's and your father's eyes because your beloved's fire sparks your own and it burns in your chest-- a love for rebellion, for a life with them without fear, for children that won't die on a large screen like your sister had.
there's a fire-- a real one, set by that rebel storm-- to train cars loaded down with the bounty of eleven bound for the capitol. the fire is set but before that storm can move, the peacekeepers are there with guns that mow them down; that riddle the bodies of those freedom fighters and you, who were waiting in the grass for trouble, go barreling forward the moment you see them hit by the biting bullets only to be caught in the hold of a peacekeeper. he drags you away from the fray, hand over your mouth and presses you against a tree and there's a fear in your heart when his hand goes for his belt, only for him to press a small handgun in your hands along with a small disc that he whispers quickly is full of information for the rebels-- for thirteen. he tells you that you have to be the one to take it to them, tells you to shoot him to make it look like you overpowered him ( because who knows better than a healer which places will heal or harm ); he tells you what paths to take and which to avoid-- wishes he could give you a map but that you have to run. there's no time to go back to your home, no time to tell your mother or your siblings goodbye-- no time to check on that beloved who had fallen, never knowing if they died in the dirt or not.
you aim for his knee, the gunshot lost in the chaos-- and you run.
ʙᴜᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ
it takes you nearly two months to make it to thirteen, following the directions the peacekeeper gave you- fully expecting it to be a trap. the journey isn't easy- it's longer than you expect to get from eleven to a place that isn't supposed to exist anymore- but is made easier when you run across others who are fleeing towards that same dream of freedom. it doesn't matter that you all hail from different districts or that your stories are so vastly different-- you're all pilgrims trying to reach that promised land and when you stumble upon it's ruins, there's a moment where hope almost fails. to think you have come all this way only to find a graveyard-- of course there was no district thirteen. movement from the rubble has your gun lifting, finger pulling the trigger and then pain explodes in your shoulder as you fall back into the arms of companions who scream out words that sound muffled: sanctuary! sanctuary! the gun falls from your hands as you're lifted into arms and the pain in your arm becomes too great and you fall to darkness.
when you wake, you think you must still be dreaming because it's real. district thirteen, hidden under the ruins of former glory and might, and you fish the disc from your side, pressing it into the palm of a healer who attends to your shoulder. time passes; you heal. time passes; you become another one of those healers in the white uniforms, treating those who have grown in the underground and those who fought like hell ( like you ) to find it. time passes; you train. you never find oz and after months of speaking to anyone who will give you the time to ask about them- to give detailed descriptions of your sibling, the scars on their body, the way their mouth turns up when they smile- you finally stop asking. oz never made it to thirteen and you're told death would be a kinder ending to imagine for them. you try to get news of eleven- of your mother and the littles who are now grown; you never learn much.
five years pass and you're approached with a mission-- to be sent to the capitol along with others to pose as a medic, infiltrating the tribute center and act as support for those who have been deep undercover as the clock ticks down on district thirteen making their move. it's been six months since you arrived in the capitol under the cover of night, set up in an apartment paid for by those who allied themselves with rebels with papers and credentials that make you a different person. for now, your job is to wait but the closer the games come, the more anxious you are for action-- you won't move until that signal is given but once it is? you'll let that fire consume you in the same way it consumed your father and your sibling.
if you're going to burn, you might as well burn bright.
TFLDR + EXTRAS
the third of rue's siblings, born after oz
the lil momma hen of the siblings like def Acts like the Oldest even if she isn't
started becoming interested in healing after oz got shot and followed that passion to apprentice w d11's healer and eventually sort of took their place
at first was very against oz being involved with the rebellion but as a healer she ended up sort dragged into it whether she wanted to be or not and really just. got over it.
swore to oz that she would go to thirteen after the rest of their siblings were old enough not to be reaped
ended up falling in love with another rebel from 11 and almost doesn't keep that promise but when a plot to burn train cars full of produce for the capitol goes awry, she's pulled by a peacekeeper (secretly allied w d13) who helps her escape
meets up with some folks who are also trying to get to thirteen and ends up getting shot when they get there bc she's got that happy trigger finger and tbh she shot first
stays as a healer/medic in 13 for some time and trains to be a soldier when she realizes oz never made it to 13
gets picked to go undercover in the capitol as a medic to act as support for those who are also there-- has been in the capitol for about 6 months as 'mara'
CONNECTIONS
D11 CONTACTS-- people from the homeplace that would know her as the former healer of the district, people she grew up with, whatever-- just the home folk
LOST LOVE-- okay so,,,,,,, mara doesn't know whether her lover survived the clash at the trainyard or not. i think it could be. inchresting if maybe they did and they find each other after five years.
REBEL PEACEKEEPER-- ok so mara wouldn't have gotten out of d11 or to 13 safely without the help of this peacekeeper. they dont have to be currently assigned to d11 but would've been at least 5 years ago.
DONT BE SUSPICIOUS-- would love some non rebels who are squinting p hard at her bc lbr she Plays at being a capitolite medic but there's something Distinctly District about her and maybe her storylines slip from time to time and don't quite add up.
literally anything yall know the drill
#mj.intro#mara temp tag: intro.#me @ me: we're doing bullet points on this intro#me @ me: bitch why tf u lyin#anyway i did it#again no proof reading we die like men
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The Basics
NAME | Zosia Kaczmarek.
FORMAL TITLE | The Rev. Zosia Kaczmarek.
NICKNAMES | Zosi, Zoë, Mother.
DATE OF BIRTH | 12 November 1981.
HOMETOWN | Manhattan, New York City, New York, United States.
BIRTHPLACE | Miami, Florida, United States (of Polish and British descent).
The Physical
HEIGHT | 5'5".
WEIGHT | 120 lb.
HAIR | Dark brown, curly (except for when she tries to straighten it out).
EYE COLOR | Brown.
The Workings
OCCUPATION | Episcopal Priest, Diocese of New York; Chaplain (formerly - and occasionally - Junior Detective), New York Police Department.
SQUAD, BOROUGH, DIVISION | 27th, Manhattan, Homicide.
WORK PARTNER(S) | (N/A — prefers working alone, primarily in case of a pastoral call, but won't hesitate to ask for someone to accompany her if need be).
DIRECT SUPERIOR(S) | The Diocesan Bishop, Lieutenant Kate Dixon, Captain Olivia Benson, and Sergeant Ayanna Bell.
The Relations
FAMILY | Anton Kaczmarek (father, living); Maritza "Maria" Kaczmarek, née Jones (mother, living).
SIBLING(S) | Mikael "Mika" Kaczmarek (younger brother, living).
PET(S) | Polka (male black cat).
OTHER KNOWN RELATIVES | Opa and Oma Kaczmarek (paternal Grandparents, living, Manhattan), Grimpa and Grinma Jones (maternal Grandparents, living, London, England).
MARITAL STATUS | Single.
The Heart
PERSONALITY AND BACKSTORY | Zosia was raised with an appreciation for both the ordained ministry and law enforcement. Born to a now-retired police officer and a fashion designer, she received a good education between both the private and public school systems; despite that, she was sexually abused by a close male friend during her sophomore year of high school — an event that she would continue to heal from, but refuse to let hinder her life. At the age of 23, after moving to New York City she took up after her father and became a Junior Detective in the NYPD; but the fun plot twist came about when she began to discern the call to the Episcopal Priesthood. With the support of her Precinct, she entered into the Ordination process and attended Seminary; following this she was ordained into the Priesthood on the Eve of Trinity Sunday, 2015. In 2016 her Diocesan Bishop gave her permission to serve as a Police Chaplain, and her Office can be found in the 27th Precinct Building.
ORIENTATION | Hetero asexual.
ALIGNMENT | Neutral- borderline chaotic-good.
TALENTS | Alertness 3 — Athletics 3 — Brawl 2 — Dodge 3 — Empathy 3 — Expression 3 — Intimidation 3 — Leadership 3 — Streetwise 4 — Subterfuge 3.
SKILLS | Animal Ken 3 (gets along well with pets) — Crafts 2 (drawing, photography) — Drive 3 (can rush to a pastoral care emergency without breaking the speed limit or someone's neck) — Etiquette 4 — Firearms 3 — Melee 2 — Performance 1 (singing) — Security 3 — Stealth 3 — Survival 4.
KNOWLEDGES | Academics 3 — Enigmas 2 — Finance 2 — Investigation 3 (former Detective, NYPD) — Law 4 (Episcopal Canon Law, see also Investigation) — Linguistics 2 (English, Polish, German) — Medicine 2 — Occult 2 — Politics 2 — Religions 3 (Episcopal Priest) — Science 2.
The Psyche
BACKGROUNDS | Allies 3 — Contacts 3 — Fame 2 — Influence 3 — Mentor 2 — Resources 3 — Status 2.
MERITS | Code Of Honor 1 — Common Sense 1 — Ambidextrous 2 — Natural Linguist 2.
FLAWS | Dark Secret 1 (was sexually abused as a teenager) — Nightmares 1.
VIRTUES | Conscience 4 — Conviction 3 — Courage 3 — Willpower 5.
The Attributes
PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES | Strength 2 — Dexterity 2 — Stamina 3.
MENTAL ATTRIBUTES | Perception 3 — Wits 3 — Intelligence 4.
SOCIAL ATTRIBUTES | Charisma 3 — Manipulation 2 — Appearance 4.
The Important Miscellaneous
STATS STYLE | Classic World of Darkness (White Wolf System).
FACE CLAIM | Amber Rose Revah.
CHARACTER SORT (FANDOM) | Original Character (Law & Order).
THEME SONG | “La Forme” (Hot Chip King of the Mountains Remix), Kraftwerk.
TYPIST | Jenn (or, the Engineer).
#“half the time i'm always on call” | about zosia: the chaplain#“whatever happens... don't miss” | about zosia: the detective#“wait. i need a pencil please!” | important things: references#content Warning: s.exual abuse mention
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ALIENATED
Now in theaters:
Jules--Ben Kingsley plays Milton, a widower pushing 80. A mild-mannered guy, he putters around his small Pennsylvania hometown, making inane proposals at city council meetings, tending the flowers in the backyard of his beautiful home, and resisting the efforts of his fretful daughter (Zoë Winters) to make him get a checkup.
Then one day Milton finds that a flying saucer has crash-landed in his backyard, wiping out his azaleas and shattering his birdbath. Soon the craft's silent alien occupant, dubbed Jules, is staying in the house, watching TV and eating apple slices between shifts repairing the saucer.
Initially, Milton doesn't make a secret of any of this. He calls 9-1-1; they think it's a prank. He mentions it to the guy at the supermarket (while buying apples) and it gets back to the daughter, who assumes it's a sign of early onset dementia.
That's the best joke in this wistful, extremely low-key sci-fi comedy--the idea that elderly people are so ignored in our society that an alien visitation could go unnoticed if it happened among seniors. Eventually two ladies (Harriet Sansom Harris and Jane Curtin) from the council meetings learn about and befriend Jules, and advise Milton to secrecy, but there's little urgency to the situation.
Kingsley starts out very deadpan and reserved; it may be that Milton is being careful to hide a cognitive decline. But the performance opens up as the story progresses, and both Jules and the two ladies draw out Milton's perceptive, hospitable warmth.
Harris and Curtin are both lovable as lonely, bored women who know they are, just by virtue of longevity and experience, a resource that's being wasted. Curtin even gets to sing "Free Bird." Under the prosthetics, stuntwoman Jade Quon brings a stoic gravity and woebegone sweetness to the bluish-white, earless, hairless, black-eyed Jules. Standing next to the saucer, wearing an old Spuds Mackenzie t-shirt, this visitor is an absurdly endearing figure.
Director Marc Turtletaub and screenwriter Gavin Steckler seem to have a little trouble figuring out how to end the movie, the last few scenes have a fitful, uncertain quality. But overall, this is a small gem--sort of an E.T. for the other end of the life span.
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B A S I C S
Full name: Zoë Annabelle Porter.
Gender: Female.
Sexuality: Heterosexual.
Pronouns: She/her.
O T H E R S
Family: Zoë used to live with her parents in an affluent place, however they died in a car crash and she now lives with her maternal cousins the Gallaghers (her mother is Frank’s sister).
Birthplace: New York, America.
Job: Zoë is quick to find a job in a comic book shop, not that her family really knows this as she worries they might try and get cash off her.
Phobias: She’s afraid of clowns and now she’s a little scared of travelling by car. Also, not that she’d ever see one really, but the idea of piranhas scare her.
Guilty pleasures: Zoë loves playing on trampolines. It’s not really a guilty pleasure, but she will occasionally seek the things out just to have a moment of respite from everything. She likes pretending to be able to do gymnastics because she can do it on them.
M O R A L S
Morality alignment: Neutral good.
Sins: Lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath.
Virtues: Chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice.
T H I S - O R - T H A T
Introvert/extrovert: Introvert.
Organized/disorganized: She was disorganised, but following the death of her parents she became a little too organised as a way of coping.
Close minded/open-minded: Open-minded.
Calm/anxious: Currently anxious, but is working on becoming calm once more.
Disagreeable/agreeable: Agreeable.
Cautious/reckless: Cautious, always has been.
Patient/impatient: Patient.
Outspoken/reserved: Reserved, but following her move she has become far more outspoken than ever before.
Leader/follower: Follower, but only because she’s not really a leader.
Empathetic/unemphatic: Empathetic.
Optimistic/pessimistic: Optimistic, and trying desperately to cling to that.
Traditional/modern: Modern, she’d fail miserably if she ever had to do something traditional.
Hard-working/lazy: Hard-working; though, prone to moments of lethargic laziness.
R E L A T I O N S H I P S
OTP: Not sure, would probably have to make an OC for her.
OT3: Doesn’t have one.
BROTP: Her and Ian.
NOTP: Not sure.
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i love all the photos of this pup, but this one from unleashed particularly tickles me. what an angel.
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Tessa’s instagram reels (May 5): This ray of sunshine is 1! 🥳 #puppylove #doglife
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#tessa virtue#morgan rielly#this looks just like an engagement announcement photo#virtue moir#zoë#cute puppy#toronto maple leafs#nova scotia duck tolling retriever
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1/23/22 Zoë in different mood stages.
Via: Tessa’s Instastory
Zoë Virtue-Rielly
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ohhh to be Zoë Virtue Rielly…
I too would like to be cradled by Morgan Rielly's thighs
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tessavirtue17: Some happy moments 🐣🐰
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Zoë Virtue-Rielly ❤️
This Adidas vs Nike thing is so cute.
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morgan and zoë • via tessa virtue’s instagram story 10/27/20
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* ⌞ʾ⁎ ⊰ zoë kravitz, nonbinary, they/she/him ⊱ i think i just saw BOBBIE SONDHEIM walk across trafalgar square, singing to TO BE SO LONELY ( HARRY STYLES ). you know, the THIRTY year old LAWYER? people claim that they are just like BOBBY from COMPANY. it must be because they are CHARMING and NONCOMMITTAL as well… though i could be wrong. all i know for sure is that they live at CHICAGO apartment.⌝
❝ they always look like they’re keeping score
who's winning , bobbie ? ❞
name: roberta sondheim.
nicknames: bobbie, bob, bubbi, booboo.
age: 30.
date of birth: october 9th, 1989.
hometown: new york city, ny.
current location: london, england.
apartment: chicago.
occupation: divorce lawyer.
pinterest: xx.
playlist: xx.
→ 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪.
♡ roberta “ bobbie ” sondheim is the first and only child of george sondheim and eileen jones. they were born and raised in new york city , something that is clear the instant anyone meets them — they’re from new york, nothing really interests them. they grew up in a big, beautiful apartment in the upper east side with a lovely view of central park. bobbie’s childhood was uneventful — both their parents worked ( george was a lawyer, eileen a real estate agent ) , so bobbie was raised by several nannies who took care of them when their parents weren’t there — they keep in touch to this day.
♡ bobbie was a few months short of thirteen when their parents announced they were getting a divorce. it wasn’t exactly a surprised — everyone could see the marriage had gone stale. the divorce was mostly amicable — they got joint custody and split up the major holidays. george moved out their home and into an apartment that was just a few blocks away. bobbie’s teens were split in two.
♡ it wasn’t long before both of bobbie’s parents remarried. george fell for a partner at his law firm, katrina — eileen fell for raúl, a recent widower she was helping find a new place. both katrina and raúl had children from their past marriages ( katrina had to boys, both in college — raúl had two girls, ages two and four ). bobbie gained two step-parents and two sets of step-siblings. the’ve never been particularly close.
♡ before and after the divorce, bobbie lived a comfortable life. they weren’t spoiled, but they never wanted for nothing. they grew up with money — bobbie was always aware of their privilege — but they never abused it. they were happy with what they had, they were comfortable. they never demanded more than what they got.
♡ in school, they got along with pretty much everyone. they were popular, but never belonged to any clique — they simply floated between them, being friends with everyone, but never getting too close to any one person in particular. that aloofness got them a lot of attention from boys and girls alike. they dated around, but never really got serious with anyone ( a habit they’ve carried onto adulthood ).
♡ bobbie was a great student without having to put too much effort into it — they coasted through. when the time came to start applying for university, they realized they didn’t know what they wanted. they weren’t passionate about anything. they got good grades and enjoyed most subjects ( except for math ). they were in the debate team, they wrote for the school paper, they ran track. they played tennis, they played the piano, they’d even had a few lines in the school’s production of a midsummer night’s dream. still, there was not one thing bobbie could envision themself doing as a career.
♡ they knew they wanted to leave new york — despite how much they loved the city. living the rest of their life surrounded by their entire family wasn’t very appealing. they decided to move to london based solely on the fact that they’d visited once when they were sixteen on a class trip. this is one of the few solid decisions bobbie has made throughout their life.
♡ at the time, bobbie was dating a fellow classmate — dean wheeler. it was almost serious. they dated for most of their senior year, and even went to prom together. they promised to keep in touch after graduation, but that didn’t really happen. it was clear bobbie had lost interest, and they both just moved on.
♡ bobbie got an english degree while trying to figure out what they actually wanted to do. eventually they decided to study law — their father was a lawyer, so it just made sense. after graduating, they started working at a small law firm and made enough money to buy themselves a nice, comfortable apartment. nothing excessive. just comfortable. they’re pretty happy with where their life is at the moment.
→ 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪.
zodiac sign: libra.
personality type: esfp — the entertainer.
enneagram: type 9 — the peacemaker.
temperament: sanguine.
moral alignment: true neutral.
primary vice: lust.
primary virtue: charity.
element: air.
♡ bobbie’s a charmer. they can make anyone fall in love with them within meeting them. they’re persuasive and almost always get whatever they want from other people. they’re a fantastic conversationalist, a great listener, and just being around them makes people feel good. they’re very social and can make friends with almost anyone.
♡ people fall in love with bobbie very easily. this is something bobbie isn’t always aware of. the sad thing is that isn’t not always reciprocated. they flirt with everyone ( sometimes without even realizing it ) , even when they’re not interested in pursuing anything.
♡ they can’t say no, so even when they’re not interested, if someone makes a move, they’ll go along with it. eventually the other person will notice and end it.
♡ when they are interested, they’re just not good at expressing it. they don’t know how to let their feelings known when things start to get serious. when it’s time for bobbie to become vulnerable and intimate, they grow distant. they never quite know how to end things, either. bobbie has a nasty habit of letting relationships grow stale and waiting for the other person to do the inevitable.
♡ their relationships often overlap, due to the fact that bobbie is incapable of being upfront with someone they no longer has romantic feelings for, and is also terrified of being alone.
♡ bobbie’s romantic life is a never ending cycle. they flirt with everyone, making them fall in love. they become disinterested, and instead of doing something about that, they wait for the other person to dump them. wash, rinse, repeat.
♡ secretly, they’re a hopeless romantic. they’re scared of intimacy, but they crave it. they yearn for that person who will make all their fears go away. they want to find that person they can be completely open and vulnerable — the problem is they never let things go that far. they get scared when things get too real.
♡ they act like they’re perfectly fine with the way their life is right now — and that’s the problem. everything is fine. just fine. they’re not unhappy, but they’re not completely happy either. they’re just okay. content. comfortable. the crave something more, but they’re too scared to take a risk and do something about it.
♡ romantic disasters aside, bobbie’s a great friend. if you’ve secured their friendship, they’ll never let you down. they’re always just a call away. they’ll make you laugh, they’ll be your wingperson, your babysitter, whatever you need, they’ll never say no.
→ 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤.
♡ FRIENDS: we’re starting out easy here, people. bobbie’s a very friendly person. they can befriend anyone, so this is incredibly open. they’re non-confrontational and a people pleaser, so they’ll get along with anyone. the circumstances of how they met can be entirely up to you.
♡ FRIENDS FROM NEW YORK: bobbie lived in nyc until they graduated high school in 2006. these friends probably wouldn’t be the closest, since bobbie was still pretty young when they left, but it would still be cool to have a couple of buddies from their high school days.
♡ FRIENDS FROM UNIVERSITY: bobbie studied in london from 2006 - 2013 ( approximately, i’m bad at math ) , so these are people they could have bonded with either while getting their english degree or in law school.
♡ FIRST FRIENDS IN LONDON: this could overlap with their friends from uni, since these are the friends bobbie bonded with they they first arrived in the uk and helped them settle in.
♡ FLINGS / FWB / HOOKUPS: this one is extremely open. bobbie flirts with everyone, so the possibilities are endless. your muse could have dated bobbie briefly, slept with them and never got a call back, they could be someone they sleep with casually, or anything else under the sun.
♡ EXES: bobbie’s dated a lot, but they rarely let things get serious ( maybe your muse thought things were getting serious, but those feelings were one-sided ). whether things ended on good or bad terms is totally up to you. bobbie avoids drama at all costs, so chances are they kind of ghosted your muse until they got the message.
♡ ALMOST-SERIOUS EX: this would be someone bobbie could see themselves getting serious with, but never took that step to make it official. they thought about it, but just never had the guts to tell the other person how they really felt. things eventually ended, as usual, and bobbie just moved on with their life.
♡ COLLEAGUES: bobbie’s a divorce lawyer, so your muse could be another lawyer that works at the same firm, someone who’s gone up against bobbie, or just another lawyer they bump into sometimes.
♡ NEIGHBORS: bobbie lives in the chicago building, so if your muse lives there and you wanna say they live right next door, hit me up !
♡ ❝ SOMEONE TO HOLD YOU TOO CLOSE ❞: it’s a cheesy name, i know, let’s move past that. bobbie clearly has commitment issues ( and intimacy issues, and many others that would take too long to list ). still, a part of them longs for that person they can truly be vulnerable with. they want love, they’re just too scared of the sacrifices that come with it. this person is someone who can finally break their shell and make them fall in love. this would obviously develop based on chemistry but i just wanted to throw it up here.
#musicalhqs:intro#→ intro !#( bobbie s. ) / * interactions .#( bobbie s. ) / * texts .#( bobbie s. ) / * muse .#( bobbie s. ) / * aesthetic .#( bobbie s. ) / * visage .#( bobbie s. ) / * playlist .
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in your arms i seek comfort
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2S7ijF0
by elly_writes18
just a fluffy little thing about morgan coming home, and our favourite couple comforting each other. enjoy the zoë cameo
Words: 1952, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Figure Skating RPF, Men's Hockey RPF
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories: F/M
Characters: Tessa Virtue, Morgan Rielly
Relationships: Morgan Rielly/Tessa Virtue
Additional Tags: Others Mentioned - Freeform, Fluff, Comforting Each Other, should have posted this forever ago, sorry - Freeform
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2S7ijF0
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CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT: TASK #1
Zoe Rivas
GENERAL
Name: Zoë Rivas
Nicknames: Zo, but it’s not like she encourages people to call her that
Gender: Female
Pronouns: She/her
Date of Birth: April 18, 1999
Age: 20
APPEARANCE
Height: 5′3″
Dominant Hand: Right, but she’s better than average with left
Hair Color: Dk. Brown
Hair Style: Currently, she is consistent in styling. It is always parted down the middle and straight.
Eye Color: Brown
Tattoos: None
Scars/Markings: Yes. No further comments.
BACKGROUND
Hometown: Caledon, Ontario, Canada
Current Residence: Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Romantic/Sexual Orientation: Lesbian (tentatively out)
Relationship Status: Single
Education: GED (received at age 19)
Languages: English and decent French, but she picks up on intonation in other languages very easily
TRAITS
Strengths: Surprisingly self-sufficient, passionate, observant
Weaknesses: Selfish, callous, judgmental, emotionally vulnerable
Neutral Traits: Bold, adventurous, clever, secretive
Quirks: Suspicious of others’ motives; gets concerned when nobody has talked about her in a while
EXTRA INFORMATION
D&D Alignment: True Neutral
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor (Really? Really)
Myers-Briggs: ESTP
Temperament: Choleric
Zodiac Sign: Aries
Sin: Greed
Virtue: Diligence
HEADCANONS
Zoe showed an interest in acting in plays when she was young. Her mom (read: momager) took this to mean that Zoe had a future on screen. And it was fun, and she had fans, but it was all not quite what Zoe had imagined. The pressure to perform got worse as time went on. Once she reached the age of majority, Zoe cut ties with her mom, and noped off to the middle of nowhere to act in terrible community theaters under an alias for a while.
In another life, Zoe would have liked to have gone to university- maybe she could have studied political science or something. But that never felt like it was in the cards.
Without really thinking about it, Zoe does elaborate shower sing and dance routines. She’s been caught in the act by past roommates and exes.
Zoe hates looking at her iMDb page because it’s readily apparent that she kept getting cast as the snarky best friend character for years.
There’s a stray cat that hangs out near the theater that Zoe pets sometimes and confides in. She has named the cat Grizabella to remind herself never to sign on for a project as bad as the Cats movie.
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