This theme was designed and coded by Nikayla. Stock imagery was created by hand except for the cellphone and typewriter. Further credit goes to the artists behind the sound files; 1, 2. If you're interested I take commissions and can do just about anything your heart desires. If you'd like to discuss a possible commission please send me a message HERE :)
Rules
About
ONE
This blog is highly selective and will show favoritism without apology. That being said I am open to everyone, OCs and Multi-Muses included. Please don't be afraid to approach me.
TWO
Mun and muse are both over 21 and there will be sex, violence, guns, torture and other various mature themes here. I will tag sex (with #nsfw) and if anything is particularly triggering I will put ____ tw on the post.
THREE
My open rps (tagged #open) are open to ANYONE unless they're tagged as 'mutuals only'. I reserve the right to ignore any reply to my open if it doesn't work with my muse or makes me uncomfortable. However some memes may not be replied to if they are shippy in nature and we do not have some preexisting plot or plot-in-the-work.
FOUR
100% of icons are made by myself, don't take them please and thank you.
FIVE
I will unfollow you for the following five reasons: failure to cut your posts. Roleplaying on reblogged asks. Untagged gore & NSFW content. Blasphemy against any religion. Racism of any sort. These are non-negotiable.
SIX
I do not GM and will block you if you do it to me. This includes dictating my muse's thoughts, feelings, or actions in ANY capacity. That being said, violence against Lorraine is always permissible, but expect the violence to be returned without permission if you make the first move. You don't need to ask permission to land a hit on her ONLY assuming your muse has equal or superior skills and training as compared to Lorraine. Those without she would likely be able to dodge the attack and I'd prefer you not dictate her actions.
SEVEN
I will not follow you back if I have no interest in writing with you. It is not personal, but if your muse or canon are not appealing to me, I don't want to give you the false hope that I am interested.
EIGHT
Skype and Discord are both available to MUTUALS upon request.
Overview
Appearance
Skills
History
Mains
NOTICE
This blog relies HEAVILY on the novel, and while I incorporate a great deal from the film there are two things to know: ONE being Lorraine is NOT AMERICAN OR CIA. Period. I may make a verse for this, but it is not to be assumed or referenced at all without prior discussion. TWO the correct code name is Stachel the German term for THORN or STINGER, none of this Satchel business. You may reference Stachel as a personanongrata in our threads but your muse may not know that she is Stachel without prior plotting. Thank you.
FILE
NAME:LORRAINE BROUGHTON KNOWN ALIASES: GLADYS LLYOD AGE: 39 HEIGHT: 5'10" WEIGHT: 55KG HAIR: BRUNETTE / DYED BLONDE EYES: BLUE DISTINGUISHING MARKS: NONE VISIBLE WARNING: HIGHLY SKILLED AND DANGEROUS STATUS: ROGUE
QUICK READ
Lorraine Broughton is an MI6 agent, highly trained and skilled in close quarters combat, gunplay, and subterfuge. Stationed in Helsinki for the majority of her career, being a fan of the cold, it's not until she is called in to Berlin, days before the fall of the wall in 1989 that the truth of her character comes into play.
This blog is based primarily on the NOVEL but the film will heavily influence it as well. At a glance things your muse might notice about Lorraine are that she is EXTREMELY tall ( 6'3" in heels, which she pretty much always wears). That she is likely SMOKING 11 times out of 10. She tends to wear very feminine clothing as well, almost overtly so.
LOOK THE PART
Tall, blonde and deadly. Lorraine Broughton is an imposing figure in any situation. She's lithe, fit, often in identity-obscuring shades, trench coat with a collar raised, cigarette dangling from between nude lips -- even without a gun she is deadly; and if you're unlucky enough even a glance could freeze your very blood.
Lorraine is quiet by nature, studious of her surroundings, and rarely speaks unless needed. She's calm, unless provoked, and even then her anger is tempered --- as bitter as a Moscow winter and equally as devastating to those caught unprepared. Her emotions are few, and kept well hidden, the eyes being the colloquial windows to her soul, are often the only source of any true indication of her feelings.
She's a killer queen. Guaranteed to blow your mind.
SHE'S A KILLER
Trained from her youth in self defense, Lorraine has spent a lifetime pushing her body to its limits to compete and survive in a man's world. She's strong, but strength isn't enough when your opponents are stronger. So she often relies on her environment and her quick thinking and instincts to get her out of a tight spot.
She has incredible mastery of three different fighting styles, as well as use of multiple different types of weapons. She's an expert marksman with a pistol, rifles tend to be less favored by her and her skills with them are much less. She's very good with blades as well as using any object at her disposal to be deadly. Beyond that, she has all the skills of a good spy. She's attuned to her surroundings, she's alert, she's suspicious and uncompromised ny her emotions. Being a-moral also lends quite the advantage to her in situations when she must decide in a moment who lives and who dies. Lorraine is unparalleled in her deduction skills, and to this day ranks among the highest marks in all of MI6 at problem solving and deceit.
Lorraine fluently speaks English, Russian, Spanish, and Mandarin, while she has a rudimentary grasp of German, and French and only a small amount of Japanese. She's very skilled at modifying her apperance to lay low when necessary, and a HIGHLY trained actress --- able to fool absolutely anyone. Including her superiors.
A STORY TOLD
UNDER CO.
Lorraine was born and raised in Somerset, England as an only child. Her mother and father were kind and there were no childhood traumas to speak of. Her father was a fourth generation orchard owner who died when Lorraine was 21. She did not attend his funeral but heard it was lovely. She joined MI6 for recruitment when she was 19, and has since devoted her life to the cause, working her way up the ranks and earning every title and advancement she's obtained. It was not until her first dispatch to Helsiniki, where she met Aleksander Bremovych that her life truly changed.
The same characterization enhanced by modern knowledge and technology -- I have very little intention to use this verse very frequently, but it will be the go to for any canon whose time-setting is pertinent to the muse or plot. Not much will change beyond her lingo, and tools, and appearance but all the same, I don't prefer this verse as a whole.
❛ OBVIOUSLY. ❜She sounds bored, and truth be told: she is. It’s bloody moronic that she’s gotten this assignment, when it just as well could have gone to anyone out of Five. Waste of sodding resources, is what it was. ❛ I hardly think your branch knows enough to hide at all; ❜ she remarks smoothly, her cigarette lifting to her chapped lips for a long, and needed draw of the sweet nicotine. ❛ I’ll share whatever I deem pertinent, ❜ she finally adds, eyes scanning the woman with mild curiosity. She never has been able to understand women who willingly seek out a bloody desk assignment. ❛ MI-6 isn’t in the habit of handing out secrets. ❜
She’s just gotten the news that her single is going to be broadcast across the UK, Europe and Canada. Never could she have guessed that she’d actually ever come through as a poet or even a rockstar but her music still felt small. She was still an underground performer with a small following in the queer punk scene, all her venues glowing with a neon haze… but her song had made it, and that feels like a small victory.
It’s bittersweet. Knowing her lyrics were all about the same woman, whom she’d likely never see again. She clicks play on her CD player, listening to the song one more time– she has more songs of course, but she hasn’t released them yet, only performed them. Her EP is due in a few weeks. ♫
♩
“… against her lips, and the quiver of her hips… you can’t hold that down…” ♫ ♪ she wonders if Lorraine has heard it yet. Or if she will now that the radio will be playing it.
♫ ♪
“… the truth in her eyes is the sky after a storm, but she’s the storm, and you want more…” ♪ ♬
OF COURSE SHE’D HEARD THE SONG. She’d kept extreme close tabs on Delphine as soon as she got her out of Berlin. She’d moved on, obviously – life wouldn’t stand still for a wounded heart, but she couldn’t deny a sense of loss. But the loss was something bitter-sweet; something that made her set the cigarette down and focus solely on the vodka when she listened. A sense of pride, and contentment. There was a great solace in knowing at least one of them had made it out. Delphine had what she’d always wanted. What she deserved. Granted what Lorraine deserved was probably not fame and success; at least not in any desirable sense of the words. Her head lolls back, the heft headphones snug against her ears, keeping the earthy voice of her one-time-lover close as the song played on and on, repeating until sleep would claim her; vodka dulling the edges of her awareness as well as the pangs in her chest. She supposed she hadn’t walked away completely empty handed herself, though – that surprisingly wise warning of Delphine’s had not been forgotten; apparently by either of them, she thinks with a smile as the now-familiar lyric cycles its way back around.
❛YOU LOOK LIKE you’ve seen a ghost, cherie . ❜ // @coldestspy
HER HEART BEATS RAPIDLY.Gaze is steady — though there is a tremble in the tips of her fingers. She doesn’t believe in illusions or spirits; never has. The real ghosts are those like herself — hollow shells inhabited by monstrous creatures.SOULLESS. Heartless. Questions mean little now, and never one to trifle with the impertinent, she foregoes the needless remarks of ‘ you’re alive ‘. She bites back the pain that her pounding heart creates, tries to deny the relief and the grief that she’s been suppressing since the night she found her there on the floor. ❛ You could have told me. ❜
It’s simple, yet the words tumble out treacherous — giving away the hurt; much like the way her icy gaze glazes over the longer she looks at her. It’s nothing new for a spy to fake their own demise; but she could’ve helped. She would’ve helped. She aches to touch her, but her feet stay rooted.
A THIN AND DELICATE FRAME; trembling fingers shoved deep in pockets as she struggled to maintain a distance that would calm the waves of rising anxiety swallowing her oxygen , other hand CLUTCHING a vintage camera ( prized possession ; family heirloom ). too much playing on a DISTRACTED mind , éliane stumbled into her target. disjointed thoughts tumbling from parted lips. INSTANTLY defensive. ❝ i wasn’t following you. i’m not – ❞ lies.
HANDS CATCH THE OTHER BY THE SHOULDER, she’s been aware of her for sometime now — it was bloody difficult not to be. The girl was practically begging to be caught, right down to running into Lorraine herself. Her grip is rough and she shoves enough to urge the girl’s feet moving, intent on putting them inside the alley adjacent to where they stood out on a crowded street. ❛ If you’re going to make a habit out of following dangerous people, at least learn how to tell a fucking LIE convincingly. ❜ She’s cold. Bitter as a Siberian wind – she’s got no time for sodding games. With one hand still gripping the other woman’s shoulder, she reaches down to try and wrench the camera away with the other. All she needed was to get them out of plain sight — put walls between herself and witnesses. The rest would depend on what the little STALKERhad to say for herself.
❛ LISTEN UP , you put down yours , and i’ll put down mine . ❜ heart begins to race . how would she explain herself ? what excuse would she come up with ? what would gain the other woman's sympathy the most ? a million reasons pop into her head , a wave of anxiety washes over her . she never underestimated a woman with a gun . ❛ i can explain . ❜ // @coldestspy
ON THE SURFACE, LORRAINE REMAINS CALM. She has little to fear from the girl herself – no matter what she might be capable of, Lorraine is securely confident that she could kill her with minimal effort. It’s the fact that her own personal safe house is apparently fucking COMPROMISEDthat alarms her, though she reflects nothing of it to the girl. Her cold blue gaze stays fixed upon the smaller figure, noting how steady and confident she seems with the gun, despite her young age.Impressive. Briefly, she wonders what ELSE the girl might be capable of. It’s not as if her night could get any sodding worse, and she really doesn’t need one more body added to the count – she’d actually enjoy some bloody rest for once.
❛ Well then. ❜ she says calmly, voice low — gun lowering as she shifts her stance. ❛ You’d better start talking. ❜