Post by Veronica Li on Jul 18, 2021 16:09:42 GMT
Physical Description
Name: Veronica "Ronnie" Li
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Height: 5’7” (170 cm)
Weight: 136 lb (62 kg)
Build/Body Type: Stocky, broad shouldered, narrow waist, powerful legs and arms.
Complexion: Olive, dusky
Hair Color: Black
Hair Style: Shoulder length
Eye Color: Brown
Voice (optional): Contralto, husky in timbre
Off-Duty Clothing Preferences: Casual dresses for comfort and convenience
Distinguishing Features: None
Face Claim: Shayna Baszler
Character Image:
![]()
Personal History
Early Life/Pre-Starfleet Career:
Veronica “Ronnie” Li was born in Vancouver, British Columbia. Her father Chuck was a minor Starfleet bureaucrat, and her mother was a housewife. The pair’s oldest son, Charles, followed in his mother’s footsteps and stayed home with his eventual husband to raise their children, Ronnie’s nieces and nephews. Perhaps because the family trajectory was one of boredom, tranquility and domesticity when Ronnie showed her first inklings of artistic talent at two she was thrust into the spotlight and given free reign.
At first Ronnie loved the attention, the carte blanche of being a young, rebellious artist who barely had to attend school. Her childhood was one without rules or boundaries. Her family, trying to live vicariously through her, allowed her to pursue her dreams without limit. After a few years, however, Ronnie found herself perversely longing for rules and structure. Where better to find them than Starfleet?
Her decision to resign her apprenticeship and matriculate to the Academy has been met with a great deal of negativity and coldness from her family, but Ronnie is determined to succeed despite them in her first assignment after graduating.
Academy/Technical Academy (if Starfleet): Alberta University of the Arts, Starfleet Academy College of Engineering
Previous Assignments (if applicable): None
Birthdate: November 5th, 2358, stardate 35844.8
Birthplace: Vancouver, British Columbia
Marital Status & spouse name(s): Single
Siblings Names and Ages: Charles Li, 24, Brenda Li, 18
Parents' Names: Chuck Li, Stella Clemmer
Parents' Status: Married
Other Important Relatives: Uncle Bob
Pets: An all black French bulldog, Bosch
Best Friend: Harmony Young, her art school college roommate
Personality
Department Preference:
Engineering, Flight Control, Medical, Operations, Security/Tactical, Science
Commissioned, Enlisted or Civilian: Engineering
Reason for joining Starfleet or moving to a Federation base: To “Ronnie”, the moving pieces of a starship engine are no different than the ebb and flow of a classical painting. As a child she found inspiration for her art not only in the rugged plains and mountains of her youth but also in the stars. At the same time, she was forever tinkering with machines, doing little art projects with them or repairing them with the same skill and flourish she employed in her art. The career for which she had been plucked from a normal life for as a child, a renowned painter, seemed full of effete traps to her as she came of age. Against her family’s wishes she resigned from a much coveted apprenticeship in the Costa del Sol, Spain, and joined Starfleet. She reasoned that one can paint anywhere, but engineering, an art from just as treasured to her as an Old Master painting, should be done among the stars.
Academy/Tech Majors and Interests: Surrealist, fantasy and space art, and landscapes. At Starfleet Academy she specialized in components engineering: improving, inventing and maintaining devices, equipment, parts, small units, and so forth.
Hobbies: Painting, music.
Short-term Goals: To do well in her first assignment, to prove both to herself and her family that foregoing a career as a respected painter was the right decision. Ronnie is not as sure in this choice as she would like to be, but she would never let her parents or older brother know that.
Long-term Goals: To thrive both in Starfleet and as an artist.
Defining Characteristic: Creative, eccentric
Sense of Humor: Ronnie’s sense of humor is just as weird as the rest of her, but with an underlying sweetness and quick wit.
Phobias or Fears: Ronnie has an immense fear of having to go back to her family as a failure and admit that she was wrong to join Starfleet.
Favorite Things: Art, engineering, music, Bosch, Indian food.
Least Favorite Things: Physical exercise. Ronnie is a couch potato.
Bad Habits or Vices: Ronnie tends to drink too much, claiming that it helps her artwork. In reality, she is escaping a somewhat unhappy childhood where her artistic talent was recognized early and she was pressured to perform and develop.
Achievements (personal or professional): Ronnie has won numerous awards for her artwork and for distinction as an engineer in the Academy.
Disappointments: Not having a normal childhood.
Illnesses: None
Strengths: Creativity, engineering skill
Weaknesses: Physical strength
Prejudices: None
Please write a brief answer to 3 of the following (a sentence or two for each is fine):
Your character's most painful experience When only her younger sister came to see her graduate Starfleet Academy
Your character's best or favorite experience Her recent apprenticeship in Spain was hard for her to leave, as it was the most beautiful place in the galaxy she had ever been to.
Your character's most crucial experience Ronnie did not have many friends growing up, as her time was constantly taken up with apprenticeships and her artwork, something she loved but also resented, as it robbed her of everyday experiences as a kid that others take advantage of. Her current break with her older brother and parents is also a pertinent event for her.
Who is your character's role model and why? Painter Frank Frazetta was a major influence for Ronnie for his striking fantasy style. She also draws inspiration from Leonardo da Vinci for his work as an engineer as well as an inventor and artist.
Please write a brief sample post from your character’s perspective:
[ENS Veronica “Ronnie” Li - USS Valley Forge - Quarters]
A blank canvas was a great deal like a sputtering fusion furnace: full of possibilities. As an artist, Ronnie lived for the possibilities.
She always worked better with a little wine, and that went for engineering, too, but of course Starfleet regulations didn’t allow for that. But in the privacy of what the ship’s Hospitality Officer called her quarters but she preferred to think of as her art studio there was no one to stop her from drinking until she felt inspired enough.
Today it was a full bodied, fortified and sweet Malaga, made not far from where, four years ago, she had been apprenticed to a Spanish painter named Mateo Cordoba. He had introduced her to the powerful vintage on her first night in the country. It hadn’t surprised either of them that they had killed an entire bottle on their first night. The art world was like that.
Ronnie lounged on the sofa, staring out at the stars when she wasn’t eyeing up the increasingly lowering level of wine in her glass. The lazy sprawl on the furniture looked entirely natural, as if she had grown out of the pillowy material like some kind of lackadaisical fungus. One leg was thrown over the arm of the plush sofa. Mateo had taught her more than wine. He had taught her painting, cooking, music, the lifestyle an artist should live to maximize productivity and happiness. He had also told her that she didn’t look like a painter but a wrestler.
It was true. Her face was wide, brutal, not unpretty but not classically attractive, either. Her cheekbones were wide, prominent, the lips and brow forceful. Her Chinese Canadian father had imbued her with dusky skin, almond shaped eyes and swarthy coloring. Her formerly Amish mother had gifted her with a husky build. Ronnie had wide shoulders, narrow hips, thick arms, hands and fingers. Her chest, butt, thighs and biceps carried deceptive muscle and untoned fat, making her look more powerful than she really was. No matter how determinedly she lazed about, Ronnie always appeared strong and fit. She wasn’t, however. The physical training in the Academy and on the “Forge”, as the crew called the Akira class vessel, had proven that. Ronnie had nearly flunking fitness reports across the board, a constant source of consternation for her. Nothing set her on edge like her annual physical fitness test or a trip to sickbay.
She shook her head, shaking the shoulder length black hair that hung like a lank curtain around her head. Her brown eyes narrowed on the blank canvas now, clearing her mind of the nagging, negative monkey mind thoughts. Ronnie focused on the possibilities of the canvas, looking through the material, trying to see whatever lay beyond.
Despite how crude her hands and fingers appeared she was always elegant in her movements with a paint brush or a sonic driver. She had set up her paints the same way ever since she had been a little girl, just like her engineering toolkit. Ronnie didn’t have to look down as the painting came to life. The smell of the wine and wet paint filled her nose.
First came the horse. It was smoky brown, like a dust devil. The mane was a stream of cream across the canvas. The man riding it was bare chested, muscled like a mythological hero, wielding a double bladed battle ax. She could almost hear the clink of his armored legs and the sound his metal boots made in the stirrups as she brushed away, giving him a sense of movement to his limbs and shoulders.
The land filled up next under her bristles, a tortured red hellscape of skulls, body parts and other gristly infill. The more she worked at it the more carried away she became. She painted hoofbeats, dented helms half stuck in the soil, broken arrows and shields.
Finally, after what felt like minutes but could have only been hours, Ronnie stepped back, feeling every inch and pound of her body creak and protest at having to stand up and move about. She poured more wine, careful to do so away from the now nearly completed canvas. She surveyed it from a distance, tilting her head critically this way and that, her unbound hair tumbling with the movement.
Something was off. Mateo had always impressed upon her to paint with finality, to make sure a piece was complete. If you let it sit around too long, he said, you start to see its flaws, its little foibles, and then nothing will ever get done. What was the finishing touch here?
Surveying the painting, she suddenly knew.
Starfleet had their own fighting knives, but alas, they were all locked away in weapons lockers in the security office. Ronnie had to make do with an ice knife she had kept from a trip to Andoria with a former classmate of hers. It wasn’t very sharp anymore but that was all for the better.
She held out her left hand in front of the canvas, trying to ignore the sudden influx of adrenaline, her trembling hands. You must commit, she told herself. That was another thing Mateo had always told her. You commit to your art, you suffer for it. People can tell if you don’t.
The blade bit into the soft flesh of her hand. With a shrill cry, Ronnie sliced the knife with a wide, sweeping gesture, sending a smattering of blood onto the canvas. It flecked across the rider and his mount and the nightmarish background. She wailed in pain.
Her face was wet and for a moment she thought she had cut herself there as well, but it was just tears. Ronnie wrapped up her still dripping left hand in her skirt, noting with alarm that it stained the material of the dress red almost instantly.
“=/\= Ensign Li to sickbay. I’m on my way. I was having a steak and I’ve accidentally cut myself. =/\= “
Do you have previous experience with a role-play forum? Former Shadow Fleet player/mod/admin, writing and text RP experience for at least twenty five years.
What brought you to the Frontier? - How did you find us? TopSites, RPG-D, The Google? This helps our advertising efforts.
I am a former player on a different site.
Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?
Name: Veronica "Ronnie" Li
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Height: 5’7” (170 cm)
Weight: 136 lb (62 kg)
Build/Body Type: Stocky, broad shouldered, narrow waist, powerful legs and arms.
Complexion: Olive, dusky
Hair Color: Black
Hair Style: Shoulder length
Eye Color: Brown
Voice (optional): Contralto, husky in timbre
Off-Duty Clothing Preferences: Casual dresses for comfort and convenience
Distinguishing Features: None
Face Claim: Shayna Baszler
Character Image:
***
Personal History
Early Life/Pre-Starfleet Career:
Veronica “Ronnie” Li was born in Vancouver, British Columbia. Her father Chuck was a minor Starfleet bureaucrat, and her mother was a housewife. The pair’s oldest son, Charles, followed in his mother’s footsteps and stayed home with his eventual husband to raise their children, Ronnie’s nieces and nephews. Perhaps because the family trajectory was one of boredom, tranquility and domesticity when Ronnie showed her first inklings of artistic talent at two she was thrust into the spotlight and given free reign.
At first Ronnie loved the attention, the carte blanche of being a young, rebellious artist who barely had to attend school. Her childhood was one without rules or boundaries. Her family, trying to live vicariously through her, allowed her to pursue her dreams without limit. After a few years, however, Ronnie found herself perversely longing for rules and structure. Where better to find them than Starfleet?
Her decision to resign her apprenticeship and matriculate to the Academy has been met with a great deal of negativity and coldness from her family, but Ronnie is determined to succeed despite them in her first assignment after graduating.
Academy/Technical Academy (if Starfleet): Alberta University of the Arts, Starfleet Academy College of Engineering
Previous Assignments (if applicable): None
Birthdate: November 5th, 2358, stardate 35844.8
Birthplace: Vancouver, British Columbia
Marital Status & spouse name(s): Single
Siblings Names and Ages: Charles Li, 24, Brenda Li, 18
Parents' Names: Chuck Li, Stella Clemmer
Parents' Status: Married
Other Important Relatives: Uncle Bob
Pets: An all black French bulldog, Bosch
Best Friend: Harmony Young, her art school college roommate
***
Personality
Department Preference:
Engineering, Flight Control, Medical, Operations, Security/Tactical, Science
Commissioned, Enlisted or Civilian: Engineering
Reason for joining Starfleet or moving to a Federation base: To “Ronnie”, the moving pieces of a starship engine are no different than the ebb and flow of a classical painting. As a child she found inspiration for her art not only in the rugged plains and mountains of her youth but also in the stars. At the same time, she was forever tinkering with machines, doing little art projects with them or repairing them with the same skill and flourish she employed in her art. The career for which she had been plucked from a normal life for as a child, a renowned painter, seemed full of effete traps to her as she came of age. Against her family’s wishes she resigned from a much coveted apprenticeship in the Costa del Sol, Spain, and joined Starfleet. She reasoned that one can paint anywhere, but engineering, an art from just as treasured to her as an Old Master painting, should be done among the stars.
Academy/Tech Majors and Interests: Surrealist, fantasy and space art, and landscapes. At Starfleet Academy she specialized in components engineering: improving, inventing and maintaining devices, equipment, parts, small units, and so forth.
Hobbies: Painting, music.
Short-term Goals: To do well in her first assignment, to prove both to herself and her family that foregoing a career as a respected painter was the right decision. Ronnie is not as sure in this choice as she would like to be, but she would never let her parents or older brother know that.
Long-term Goals: To thrive both in Starfleet and as an artist.
Defining Characteristic: Creative, eccentric
Sense of Humor: Ronnie’s sense of humor is just as weird as the rest of her, but with an underlying sweetness and quick wit.
Phobias or Fears: Ronnie has an immense fear of having to go back to her family as a failure and admit that she was wrong to join Starfleet.
Favorite Things: Art, engineering, music, Bosch, Indian food.
Least Favorite Things: Physical exercise. Ronnie is a couch potato.
Bad Habits or Vices: Ronnie tends to drink too much, claiming that it helps her artwork. In reality, she is escaping a somewhat unhappy childhood where her artistic talent was recognized early and she was pressured to perform and develop.
Achievements (personal or professional): Ronnie has won numerous awards for her artwork and for distinction as an engineer in the Academy.
Disappointments: Not having a normal childhood.
Illnesses: None
Strengths: Creativity, engineering skill
Weaknesses: Physical strength
Prejudices: None
***
Please write a brief answer to 3 of the following (a sentence or two for each is fine):
Your character's most painful experience When only her younger sister came to see her graduate Starfleet Academy
Your character's best or favorite experience Her recent apprenticeship in Spain was hard for her to leave, as it was the most beautiful place in the galaxy she had ever been to.
Your character's most crucial experience Ronnie did not have many friends growing up, as her time was constantly taken up with apprenticeships and her artwork, something she loved but also resented, as it robbed her of everyday experiences as a kid that others take advantage of. Her current break with her older brother and parents is also a pertinent event for her.
Who is your character's role model and why? Painter Frank Frazetta was a major influence for Ronnie for his striking fantasy style. She also draws inspiration from Leonardo da Vinci for his work as an engineer as well as an inventor and artist.
Please write a brief sample post from your character’s perspective:
[ENS Veronica “Ronnie” Li - USS Valley Forge - Quarters]
A blank canvas was a great deal like a sputtering fusion furnace: full of possibilities. As an artist, Ronnie lived for the possibilities.
She always worked better with a little wine, and that went for engineering, too, but of course Starfleet regulations didn’t allow for that. But in the privacy of what the ship’s Hospitality Officer called her quarters but she preferred to think of as her art studio there was no one to stop her from drinking until she felt inspired enough.
Today it was a full bodied, fortified and sweet Malaga, made not far from where, four years ago, she had been apprenticed to a Spanish painter named Mateo Cordoba. He had introduced her to the powerful vintage on her first night in the country. It hadn’t surprised either of them that they had killed an entire bottle on their first night. The art world was like that.
Ronnie lounged on the sofa, staring out at the stars when she wasn’t eyeing up the increasingly lowering level of wine in her glass. The lazy sprawl on the furniture looked entirely natural, as if she had grown out of the pillowy material like some kind of lackadaisical fungus. One leg was thrown over the arm of the plush sofa. Mateo had taught her more than wine. He had taught her painting, cooking, music, the lifestyle an artist should live to maximize productivity and happiness. He had also told her that she didn’t look like a painter but a wrestler.
It was true. Her face was wide, brutal, not unpretty but not classically attractive, either. Her cheekbones were wide, prominent, the lips and brow forceful. Her Chinese Canadian father had imbued her with dusky skin, almond shaped eyes and swarthy coloring. Her formerly Amish mother had gifted her with a husky build. Ronnie had wide shoulders, narrow hips, thick arms, hands and fingers. Her chest, butt, thighs and biceps carried deceptive muscle and untoned fat, making her look more powerful than she really was. No matter how determinedly she lazed about, Ronnie always appeared strong and fit. She wasn’t, however. The physical training in the Academy and on the “Forge”, as the crew called the Akira class vessel, had proven that. Ronnie had nearly flunking fitness reports across the board, a constant source of consternation for her. Nothing set her on edge like her annual physical fitness test or a trip to sickbay.
She shook her head, shaking the shoulder length black hair that hung like a lank curtain around her head. Her brown eyes narrowed on the blank canvas now, clearing her mind of the nagging, negative monkey mind thoughts. Ronnie focused on the possibilities of the canvas, looking through the material, trying to see whatever lay beyond.
Despite how crude her hands and fingers appeared she was always elegant in her movements with a paint brush or a sonic driver. She had set up her paints the same way ever since she had been a little girl, just like her engineering toolkit. Ronnie didn’t have to look down as the painting came to life. The smell of the wine and wet paint filled her nose.
First came the horse. It was smoky brown, like a dust devil. The mane was a stream of cream across the canvas. The man riding it was bare chested, muscled like a mythological hero, wielding a double bladed battle ax. She could almost hear the clink of his armored legs and the sound his metal boots made in the stirrups as she brushed away, giving him a sense of movement to his limbs and shoulders.
The land filled up next under her bristles, a tortured red hellscape of skulls, body parts and other gristly infill. The more she worked at it the more carried away she became. She painted hoofbeats, dented helms half stuck in the soil, broken arrows and shields.
Finally, after what felt like minutes but could have only been hours, Ronnie stepped back, feeling every inch and pound of her body creak and protest at having to stand up and move about. She poured more wine, careful to do so away from the now nearly completed canvas. She surveyed it from a distance, tilting her head critically this way and that, her unbound hair tumbling with the movement.
Something was off. Mateo had always impressed upon her to paint with finality, to make sure a piece was complete. If you let it sit around too long, he said, you start to see its flaws, its little foibles, and then nothing will ever get done. What was the finishing touch here?
Surveying the painting, she suddenly knew.
Starfleet had their own fighting knives, but alas, they were all locked away in weapons lockers in the security office. Ronnie had to make do with an ice knife she had kept from a trip to Andoria with a former classmate of hers. It wasn’t very sharp anymore but that was all for the better.
She held out her left hand in front of the canvas, trying to ignore the sudden influx of adrenaline, her trembling hands. You must commit, she told herself. That was another thing Mateo had always told her. You commit to your art, you suffer for it. People can tell if you don’t.
The blade bit into the soft flesh of her hand. With a shrill cry, Ronnie sliced the knife with a wide, sweeping gesture, sending a smattering of blood onto the canvas. It flecked across the rider and his mount and the nightmarish background. She wailed in pain.
Her face was wet and for a moment she thought she had cut herself there as well, but it was just tears. Ronnie wrapped up her still dripping left hand in her skirt, noting with alarm that it stained the material of the dress red almost instantly.
“=/\= Ensign Li to sickbay. I’m on my way. I was having a steak and I’ve accidentally cut myself. =/\= “
***
Do you have previous experience with a role-play forum? Former Shadow Fleet player/mod/admin, writing and text RP experience for at least twenty five years.
What brought you to the Frontier? - How did you find us? TopSites, RPG-D, The Google? This helps our advertising efforts.
I am a former player on a different site.
Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?
