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indie oc.
penned by FAYE
If you're reading this, then, awesome, and welcome to my blog! My name Is Lafayette, although I mainly go by FAYE. I am at twenty-three (23) year old graduate student at Utah State University currently studying English. I also teach and tutor in my spare time. I am asexual, biromantic, and autistic. I am also nonbinary and prefer they/them for my pronouns.
If you have any questions, feel free to come ask! I don't bite, I promise.
So just a quick note here, my friends, that I am absolutely mutuals only. I don't mind receiving asks / questions about my muse from non-mutuals, but for my own sake, I have to remain mutuals only for threads. I have over four (4) roleplay blogs, and all of them are somewhat popular. (The biggest one has over 1K followers and is a headache tbh.) If I roleplayed with everyone, I would be overwhelmed. Remember, it's not you, it's me. I have to set boundaries somewhere.
When it comes to shipping, I'm pretty much down for anything. I am, but that doesn't necessarily mean Leah is. She has BPD and a few other issues, and finds it easier to "hit it and quit it." Emotional attachments are hard for her, especially the romantic kind. If you're looking to ship, note that the characters will have to have a strong platonic bond first, as she is very demiromantic.
I have a lot of verses, and one day I'll gladly make a verses page. As of right now, though, I have my main verse (heavily transformers-based, since she's been adopted by a Starscream), a Mass Effect verse, a TMNT verse, and a Marvel/X-Men verse. Within the transformers universe I also have a MTMTE verse, since it is technically a different universe.
Just fuck me up, bro.
I have no written triggers, but I do ask that people tag pictures of self-harm and blood/gore. I also ask that you guys please tag your daddy kink. As someone with a healthy relationship with my father, it just weirds me the fuck out. I don't mind you guys doing it, but please tag it for me. I will also tag any triggers. My tags for those are usually "trigger //".So for instance, "nsfw //" or "blood //". I already will be tagging things such as blood, death, suicide, rape and other, more common triggers. If you need something else tagged, however, please feel free to come into my ask box.
Like I mentioned before, my name is Faye. I'm genderweird, and I use they/them pronouns. Leah is my child, and has been my OC for almost three years now. I love her more than life itself. (Okay, not really, but I am super protective.) I'm currently a second-year graduate student in folklore, and am in the process of writing my thesis. Writing is an escape for me, but I am still constantly busy, so I will be on and off occasionally. Gotta get that degree, my mans.
I made all of my Icons and Graphics, but the art usually belongs to other people since I, myself, cannot draw. I typically credit the artist within the space of where I use their art (so, for instance, my background is credited on my front page since that is where I use it).
Name: Emilea River Rhemer
Nicknames: Leah
Age: 20
Birthdate: July 31, 1996
Species: Human
Gender: Agender (She/Her, They/Them)
Orientation: Bisexual (Demiromantic)
Profession: Thief, Hacker, Engineer
Hair: Black, Short
Eyes: Brown
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 145
Abilities: 169 IQ, Hacking, Inventing, Excellent Aim
Hobbies: Tinkering with Tech
Positive: Loyal, Fierce, Intelligent
Negative: Angry, Recovering Addict, Bull-Headed
Colors: Pinks, Blue, Purple
Smells: Coffee, Oil, Gunpowder
Textures: Cotton, Silk, Putty
Drinks: Whiskey, Vodka
Smokes: No
Drugs: Yes
Driver License: Yes
Ever Been Arrested?: Yes
Main Verse:
Leah was born the first and only child of Jessamine and Jonatha Rhemer, a housewife and mechanic respectively. Although her father was a kind and caring man, her mother seemed to be the complete opposite. From the time Leah was very young, she—much like her father—was subjected to her mother’s verbal and physical abuse. But whereas Jonathan could escape to his shop or the bottle, there was no reprieve for Leah, at least not until she was about twelve.
Desperate to figure a way to escape, Leah took to the streets, working odd jobs whenever she could find them. It was during this time that she found employment in a street gang transporting drugs from Point A to Point B. The job didn’t pay too much, but it was enough that Leah could afford food whenever her mother forgot, or her father’s shop didn’t bring in much that week. It wasn’t long before she was working her way up through the gang.
Despite all odds working against her, it wasn't long before Leah realized just how intelligent she really was. As soon as she could, she began to work part-time in her Dad's shop, repairing cars while also working on her own inventions. She stole computers and taught herself how to write programs. There was something peaceful in creation, something that eased the anger and hatred in her soul.
At nineteen, in the middle of a drug deal, a buyer turned on her. He shot her in the back of her head, causing leah to lose her eye and suffer brain damage. And, while it did not take away her intelligence, it has severely altered her personality, making her that much angrier and harder to control. She's trying, though.
She has a family, now.
Well, that was new. A human had never talked back at him before– in fact, there were only a handful of people that had ever dared to snap at him in that manner. And, despite her cutting words, he grinned. Funny little things, humans. Now he had to get a closer look.
“That’s a lot of attitude for something so tiny,” he commented breezily, plucking her off the table. He leaned back in his chair, holding her between two fingers as he examined her. He didn’t do so well with concepts like personal space.
“What’s the rush, little bit? Got somewhere to be?”
« 🔧 » She was halfway up the table leg when fingers grabbed her sides, lifting her. Immediately, Leah tensed. Her eyes darkened. No one touched her. No one grabbed her. And no one, especially not a gigantic BRUTE, lifted her more than ten feet from the ground.
One hand reached back, to remove the modified Cybertronian pistol from her belt. Minibot sized, sure; specially gifted by Brainstorm, of course. It was the perfect little defender for the tiniest of the Lost Light crew.
“You put me down right THE FUCK now, or I swear to all the deities in this forsaken universe, I will shoot both your optics out.”
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