L'histoire de la rencontre de Vern avec Jeanne n'était pas aussi intéressante qu'elle aurait pu l'être et bien que Vern fût certainement prête à embellir une histoire, elle s'est trouvée distrait un moment par quelqu'un qui était beaucoup trop chipper pour le moment de la journée. Elle tourna la tête alors que l'homme passait et la seule chose que Vern pouvait faire était de regarder à blanc en pleine confusion jusqu'à ce que les tonalités dulcètes de Jeanne la ramènent à la situation actuelle. Celui qui pouvait être si heureux si tôt était dangereusement près de laisser une mauvaise impression.
"Ce qu'elle a dit, moins le truc 'Je ne marche pas'." Vern s'accorde avec ses mains fermement plantées dans ce qui aurait été ses poches si son choix de chemise n'avait pas rendu cette tâche beaucoup plus embarrassante. « En gros, J.J. travaille plus dur qu'elle ne le devrait et comme il n'y a pas de drogue ici, j'étais la meilleure chose à faire. Les gens aiment décharger leurs problèmes sur moi. Tu vois ça?" Vern lui tendit le bras droit, pointant vers le bout de flab qui tremblait. "Ce n'est pas 'cuz des cheeseburgers, Kate, c'est la garce et les gémissements de tout le monde congelés dans la cellulite. Ça ne me dérange pas. J.J. est probablement la personne la plus cool sur le sol."
Comme si sur le signal, dès que Vern a fini sa petite louange, ainsi a volé les clés de Jeanne de son doigt. Vern, étant la bonne amie qu'elle était, n'a pas pris la peine d'étouffer son snicker alors qu'elle regardait Jeanne ramasser les clés comme un enfant abattu. "C'est pour ça qu'ils te paient le gros lot, J.J. Pour la grâce et la piété face à l'adversité. Ou l'humiliation." Le petit commentaire de Vern se pétrit d'un autre snicker, capté d'un petit snort; c'était surtout de la seconde nature, son rire ronflant.
"Et pour info, je vais me promener moi-même. Au coin de la rue. Et peut-être pour prendre un sandwich au petit-déjeuner. Je vous demanderais si l'un d'entre vous veut venir, mais je ne suis pas sûr que Mlle Billboard ici ait de la place pour la promotion croisée."
Full Name|
Laverne Claire Bryant
Nickname|
Vern
Gender|
Female
Age|
Twenty Five
Birthday|
Once a year every year. In the autumn.
Job/Education|
Comic Artist; Does commissions on her website
Room Number|
4A
How long have you been staying in Suncrest?|
About six months or so.

About
Appearance|
Vern has what some might consider a...slovenly sort of appearance about her. Sure there's a somewhat attractive person to be found, but one has to get past the bags under her eyes, the slightly pear-shaped physique that gives a...somewhat healthy amount of chub (which she promised she'd work on...eventually) and the various stains that mar her outfits on a regular basis. Vern is not exactly a walking hot mess, but it's hard to imagine there's a more lazy looking person in all of Verona. Lazy is a fair way to describe how Vern carries herself, especially given her hobby of wearing mismatched clothing out of a habit of merely throwing on whatever smells and looks clean at any given moment. It's fortunate that she is somewhat tall, at least taller than the average, standing at 5'10" which has afforded her some natural physical attributes that are enhanced by her physique: namely that she parades around in shorts semi-consistently. There's another motive for doing so, of course, in that the back of her right calf is blessed with a little tattoo of a bee with a dumb, goofy grin and googly-eyes. It was her first one, the first 'character' she ever drew. Its name was Busy Bee.
Her hair is of a medium length and chestnut brown in color. She doesn't style it any particular way, making it look more unkempt and forever topped with bedhead than anything else. Her eyes are dark blue in color and possess a dissatisfaction of life that only comes with experience and a lack of sleep. Typically, Vern doesn't wear makeup other than the instances when she has a date or a meeting of some sort. If ever someone uttered the phrase 'starving artist' no one would look to Vern for proof of that. 
Interests|
-Fast Food. There's really no greater saving grace than a decently cheap, decently terrible for you burger seeped in grease and ketchup. Sometimes with double patties. Often with double patties.
-Sketching. It almost goes without saying given her occupation but Vern rather enjoys sketching things she sees. This tends to be things limited to her room and what she sees from the window but it's a nice break all the same.
-Punk and Rap Music. There was a time when Vern was constantly getting in trouble for playing her music at very unreasonable volumes at very unreasonable hours of the day and night. When asked why she didn't use headphones to listen to the music her response was a simple "I was using them." She was probably lying. Point being she likes loud, angry sorts of music.
-Coffee and/or soda. Anything with a lot of caffeine. She tends to favor soda because it comes with the benefit of being bad for the health and it's cheaper to buy a few twenty four packs of Pepsi than it is to buy multiple cups of coffee over the course of a week.
-Reality Television. Vern still remembers the day when Jersey Shore ended because she was sad about it for a good month. She loves her trashy fake reality shows because she can watch them and not feel so bad about her own lot in life. Because if these pretty and rich people are fucking up, maybe it's okay that Vern hasn't done her laundry in three weeks.

Fears|
Breaking bones. It's a simple fear and has more to do with the pain aspect but Vern cringes at the sheer thought of spraining an ankle much less breaking something in a more serious fashion. That she believes her body to be a bit doughy and thus in possession of weak bones certainly doesn't help.
Blood. In line with her broken bone phobia, Vern hates blood be it her own or fake blood in movies. She doesn't even like drawing blood in her art (but will do it if she's getting paid, like any good money fan). It doesn't make her light headed but she does tend to avert her gaze all the same.
Losing Her Job. It's more along the lines of being forced to move back in with family since she's been independent, for better or worse,
for a good six years or so now and going back home is the same as admitting that her relatives were right all along. Thankfully there're people who like her artwork enough to ask for commissions as well as purchase the book she draws for on a biweekly basis. For now. 
Sexuality|
Homosexual
Personality|
Vern isn't abrasive, but that doesn't make it any easier for her to get along with people - not for lack of trying but rather...lack of grace. The day that adults gave lessons on social etiquette was a day Vern missed. It's not unheard of for Vern to belch loudly in public and then laugh about it like a child. She even chews with her mouth open. Manners escape her, and yet that's often the worst thing people can say about Vern, that she lacks anything resembling grace or, well, femininity. At her worse, Vern comes off as gross but harmless more than anything else; there are probably those who find her lack of care refreshing. Doubtful, but then the world is a rather mysterious place.
There's nothing about Vern that plays as shy. She's practically an open book for better or worse. She knows enough not to blab secrets and the like but with a somewhat loud mouth and lack of a filter, she isn't someone to go telling life changing secrets to. She knows not to blab but sometimes it just slips out, y'know? Lacking in what some call 'book smarts' thanks to her completely below average academic record through high school, Vern makes up for it by understanding people on a personal level. She fancies herself something of an armchair psychiatrist at time - understanding people and their motivations has helped her comic last on the strength of its characters.
Still, perhaps because of her rather off putting antics, Vern is a lonely woman all the same. She craves camaraderie even as those she thinks like her constantly find excuses to not hang out with her. It's not a matter of 'growing up' despite her somewhat childish antics and behavior patterns, it's that she doesn't know how to truly talk to people and make connections. Not for lack of trying, either.
Though quick to make a quip and never missing a chance to indulge in some self deprecation, it's seemingly not enough for people to latch onto. She might be a somewhat successful artist, but Verona's residents are in no hurry to hoist Vern up on their shoulders and exclaim their joy. Some might say she tries too hard. Vern disagrees. She doesn't try at all. All of who she is as a person is up front, it's up to others to take it or leave it; she's not about to make drastic changes even if it means a life of wanting. 

History
Biography|
For as long as Laverne could remember, she was doodling. It started when she was a little girl, drawing little pictures so her mother could hang them on the fridge; of course, she never did - hang pictures on the fridge - since Vanessa Bryant was more concerned with finishing another bottle of wine than in praising the artistic work of her daughter. It wasn't a broken home, just an unfortunate one. Vanessa Bryant was addicted to wine and lotto tickets while Edward Bryant was having numerous affairs with his students - his position as a professor of literature at the local college did have its perks. His lecherous actions certainly explained the wine.
Laverne found refuge in art, needing an outlet to channel her creativity and lack of supervision and substantial affection shown to her in her formative years. After her mother passed away from alcohol poisoning, Vern was sent to live with her grandmother who had retired; there was no way Edward was going to raise a daughter on his own, what with his sexual escapades turning into a bit of a scandal on the news and all. Vern's grandmother, Laverne (hence the name) was a bit more accepting of her, in that she actually put a drawing on the wall. Granted, it was a drawing that was featured in the local newspaper, but it was the thought that counted above all.
Vern skated her way through high school, graduating just barely and not going onto college. She doubled down on her art, believing she could break into animation or some other art related industry. College was a waste of time, which she had, and money, which she did not. After graduating high school, Vern worked part time jobs while she built up a portfolio. After her grandmother passed away, Vern self-published a small little graphic novel that was a fictionalized version of her grandmother's life, which was highly embellished but they were based on stories told to her all the same.
That graphic novel was enough to get a meeting with a publishing house who offered her a contract to write a comic for their indie division; though the company was known for its tales of heroes and heronies, Vern offered only a biweekly comic about disaffected youths with a sharp art style. Her comic, 'Swingles' was a sarcastic look at modern dating through the eyes of an eternally single twenty-something. Observational humor mixed with relate-able characters made Swingles a bit of a hit among people that still read non-hero comics. Didn't exactly help Vern's personal and social life, but at least she was able to quit her burger flipping job before it became her career.
Vern has lived in various apartments since the death of her grandmother and she doubts she'll ever own a home. Apartments are fine and Suncrest is agreeable enough. It has pretty much everything she needs, other than human contact, and it is the perfect place to find inspiration to use in her art and cartooning. She dreams of being an animator but is, at the moment, content enough with her relative obscurity.

A Memory|

Thank God for editors. That was a joke, of course. No one in the industry, in any industry, was ever thankful for editors. Least of all editors that did not know or respect the simple courtesy of not ringing the phone every half hour. Some people might've been glad to have someone so concerned with their well-being but it only took one phone call for Vern to realize that the phone calls weren't to offer sweet words of recovery. The first call happened when Vern had just opened up the flood gates and let loose a deluge of blood that she hadn't seen since the first time she saw Carrie. At first Vern had assumed she would need to invest in some extra strength pads before she realized it came from her nose. In her defense, there was so much of it that it could've come from anywhere. It utterly ruined her favorite shirt. Probably for the best, all told, it could do with a wash.
The voice on the other end, as Vern was having the mother of all nosebleeds, her editor was screaming about the pages. She was behind. Normally she submitted her stuff weeks in advance, as was protocol, but Vern was nothing if not lazy and presently massively hung over. Or sick. Or both. Definitely both. With her nose gushing like a tsunami of blood she was in no position to draw or hilariously comment on the singles dating scene. She let her editor, the man could yell with the best of them, tire himself out before she promptly hung up to clean herself up.
Every time she was blessed with the ability to sleep the damn phone would ring - and not her mobile which was turned off lest she risk the urge to check her various dating profiles (seriously, how did so many people swipe left, was she that undesirable?) - this was the landline and the last time she unplugged the land line her landlady had a piss fit.
There was little to do other than listen to the angry messages of her editor as he swore up and down about how unprofessional Vern was being. She didn't ask for blood to pour and Aspirin to be as effective as natural cures. At least now she was recovered and could focus on her art work again. The first thing she did upon feeling better was turn on the television; it helped her relax and focus. Or so she told people that asked. In truth it just meant she spent more time watching soaps and daytime talk than actually drawing, inking, writing, and coloring. Vern flipped channels...it was Sunday..Sunday programming was largely sports related...which meant it was a cartoon sort of day.
Anything to not worry about work for just a little bit longer... 
Struggles|
Vern struggles with her own inner feelings of inferiority and doubt stemming from her somewhat...unhygienic way of living. Her ineptitude with making true social connections plays into her fear that as she gets older she'll become less and less likely to ever make a human connection. Or a romantic one. She's wondering what will happen first: her comic getting made into a movie or her finding either a best friend or significant other.
Neither seem likely in her life time. 
Family|
Father: Edward Bryant. Former college professor forced to retire after scandals involving improper student/teacher relationships.
Mother: Vanessa Bryant. Deceased. Alcohol poisoning.
Siblings: None