#AC verse or NYPD either is good !

[tuppencetrinkets-a]

@magicandsciencemuses - elias sent in a meme for alena.

"why don’t you make me?"

    Heat and anger flushed her cheeks -- this was why she didn’t try, this was why it was so much easier to be on her own, when she didn’t have to worry about what lies she’d told when, and where, and why, when she didn’t care and it didn’t matter what she said, or when, or why, or how her words came across, or when she let loose things she didn’t mean, when she got overwhelmed in the petty arguments -- She swallowed harshly, her body aching with the need to leave, to run away, to leave the detective and all of his broken pieces behind --  but she found herself staying.   Again, and again,drawn back to him like a moth to the flame.   Fingers curled, digging against the fabric of his hoodie, one pulling free to latch against the nape of his neck, dragging him down to her level even as she pushed him back, shoving him against the wall of his apartment as her lips crashed into his.

[er-fightmaster]

➜ BIO

God bless the woman with ambition, people say. Or maybe it’s ‘god fear the woman with ambition’. Florence can never remember. Either way, she somehow wants to prove that point before she even knows what it is, a child determined to win at sports day and get ten out of ten on every spelling test even in primary school.

It’s not something she trains in the beginning. It’s just a gift, an amazing memory and a knack for perception. It starts with something small, her pointing out every car that drives past that’s the same make as her father’s before she’s out of pushchairs. Her parents make games out of tests and tests out of games, shapes and colours and cards. Florence doesn’t mind. In fact, she likes it when she ‘wins’. All parents think their children are exceptional but there’s no denying Florence is pretty bright. Maybe it’s luck, the resulting genetics of a Columbia Law Graduate turned fantastic lawyer and an Archivist at the Museum of Natural History. Whatever it is, they’re determined not to let her waste it.

She never has the typical teenage rebellion with the drugs and the cigarettes and the staying out too late at night. She just suffers from the frustration at being boxed in, of being told who to be. Her teenage rebellion is teenage laziness, the habit of coasting because she knows she’s clever. It takes her favourite teacher to pull her aside after she bombs a practice exam at sixth form and asking her what’s going on for her to get her head on straight.

Maybe a heart to heart is just what she needed, an honest conversation with someone outside the family, someone independent. She and the teacher have a few cigarettes together and they chat about the pressures of expectation and what she wants from the future. Only Florence can decide, the teacher says, but she’s going to limit her options if she gives up now.

It works. When the real test comes around, Florence aces it. She has a goal in mind now. She could no doubt be a lawyer like her dad with the way she can spin a narrative, but she wants something else, something a little more on the front lines. She wants to become a police officer, maybe even an intelligence officer some day. She goes to college in California, choosing Berkeley for a bit of space. After all, with her parents living in New York, it’s about as far away as she can reasonably get without going all the way to Europe, and while people on the West Coast might seem as if they speak a foreign language at times, at least she can understand them.

The distance works. When she graduates, she does so with honours and she has her pick of jobs, but the only one she wants is back home at the NYPD. You can take the girl out of New York, but you can’t take the New York out of the girl. People know who her dad is. They respect him. Florence wants that respect too, and she does whatever she can to get it. She doesn’t want to coast any more, neither on her intelligence nor on her name. Hard work combined with natural intelligence? Now that’ll do the job. She rises through the ranks, her grit and determination blending well with her knack for politics.

She joins the Major Crimes Unit because that’s the job she wants. It’s challenging, it’s exciting, and it’s current. But if the newspapers or her dad ask, most importantly, it’s the right thing to do.  After all, even if she’s doing what she believes in, she can’t be seen to be too sappy now, can she?

➜ BASICS

FULL NAME: Florence Isabella Vane AKA(S): N/A BIRTHDAY: 11 May ZODIAC: Taurus AGE: 32 years old SPECIES: Human ORIENTATION: Bisexual GENDER: Cisgender Female (She/her/hers) OCCUPATION(S): Police Detective PRIMARY VERSE: Everyday 

➜ APPEARANCE

FACECLAIM: Krysten Ritter EYE COLOR(S): Brown HAIR COLOR(S): Black HEIGHT: 5'7" BODY BUILD: Athletic DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: N/A TATTOOS: Quarter sleeve tattoo of greyscale roses on right shoulder PIERCINGS: Ears, tongue (taken out for work)

➜ BACKGROUND

HOMETOWN: New York, NY FINANCIAL STATUS: Middle Class EDUCATION LEVEL: College Graduate ETHNICITY: White SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, some Spanish ACCENT: New York RELIGION: Catholic, non-practicing 

➜ PERSONALITY

FEARS: Vulnerability, failure, rejection MORAL ALIGNMENT: Neutral Good MYERS-BRIGGS TYPE: ISTP: The Virtuoso TEMPERAMENT: Choleric ENNEAGRAM: Type Five: The Investigator HOGWARTS HOUSE: Ravenclaw POSITIVE TRAITS: Intelligent, analytical, hard-working, adaptable, witty, loyal NEGATIVE TRAITS: Blunt, sarcastic, guarded, hard to read, occasionally hedonistic, risk-taker

➜ MISC.

ELEMENT: Earth ANIMAL: Lynx TROPES:

Great Detective

Deadpan Snarker

The Cynic 

The Lad-ette 

Determinator

The Stoic