#veta lopis

[she-bear18]

The hug 👉🏼👈🏼🥺

[amayavittori]

Linda-058: *watching through a scope three miles away as Fred was too distracted by Veta and walked right into a tree*

Linda-058:

(also Linda-058)

Simp

/simp/

noun, informal, North American: silly or foolish person.

[whotookmytomato]

Veta: I thought I had seen a lot of destruction in my life but nothing prepared me for when the Spartans were given a ball to play with indoors

[crystalsandbubbletea]

Berat: Where's Lopis?

Locke: Don't worry, I'll find her.

Locke, shouting: Fred sucks!

Veta, distantly: Fred is the best person ever! Fuck you!

Locke: Found her.

[halobirthdays]

Happy birthday to Veta Lopis!

Today is her -497th birthday!

When Lopis was seventeen, she was kidnapped and abused for several weeks before killing her captor and escaping. These events changed the course of her life, and she eventually joined Gao's Ministry of Protection as a special inspector. She excelled at the position, both because of her unique experiences and deep sense of justice, stopping multiple high-profile murderers and becoming Gao's top homicide investigator.

In May 2553, the UNSC established a presence on Gao, secretly in search of a Forerunner ancilla within Gao's caves. The ancilla began killing Gao citizens to incite discord in the already-tense relationship between the Gaos and the UNSC. Lopis was sent to investigate the homicides there, but not without UNSC intervention. Spartan Fred-104 and three Spartan IIIs were sent to shadow Lopis to prevent her anti-UNSC outlook from unfairly blaming the them for the murders.

It was in the caves that Lopis watched Ash-G099, Olivia-G291, and Mark-G313 in action. After observing the level of violence and destruction the Gammas were capable of, as well as thier need to regularly take drugs to control the mental instability that their augmentations caused, Lopis began to suspect them as the murderers.

Eventually, she would realize that the murderer was not Mark, but the work of the ancilla Intrepid Eye. Meanwhile, the newly-elected President of Gao moved to remove the UNSC presence on the planet. When it became clear that Lopis was working with the UNSC, he attempted to eliminate her, and Lopis instead fled with the Spartans.

She was greeted by then-Rear Admiral Serin Osman, who informed her of ONI's intentions of separating the Gammas from Blue Team and switching them to covert operations due to their public relations risk. Osman offered Lopis the opportunity to act as a handler of sorts for the Spartan IIIs in an investigative team called the Ferrets. Having grown attached to the Ferrets, and unable to return home, Lopis accepted.

Their next assignments would lead to them into deep cover within the Keepers of the One Freedom, a devout ex-Covenant splinter group. Lopis and the Ferrets would follow the Keepers to the Ark after the Keepers unexpectedly partnered with the Banished, giving them an opportunity to target Atriox.

When they arrived on the Ark, they discovered the UNSC presence there and broke cover to offer assistance in stopping the Keepers from firing the Halos from the Ark. Lopis and the remaining Ferrets remain on the Ark, having teamed up with the crew of the Spirit of Fire.

In canon (~2560), she is turning 40!

[vetalopis]

May 7!!

Happy birthday to everyone’s favorite inspector, mom, spook, dokab, and Spartan-surfer in the Halo universe – Veta Lopis 🎉

[eschatonjudge]

Fred: That was so hot, Veta.

Veta: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.

Fred: I'm so in love with you.

[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

Halloween Prompts 2022

Here are 4 prompts of various flavors

Blue Team Halloween Costumes ft. Veta

Fireteam Majestic carves Jackolanterns

New Mombasa Civilian POV Floodgate

Frankenstein Miller

"Did you guys lose a bet?" Veta asks, not hiding the way her eyes roam appreciatively over all the exposed Spartan in front of her.

"Not exactly." Fred admits, fiddling with the shield and cape.

"We're winning a bet." Kelly chimes in, adjusting her sandals. The straps crossing over her calves barely stay tied as they strain under the pressure.

Linda nods, her helmet bobbing and her sharp eyes peering out of shadow. Her arms are full of plastic spears. "They shouldn't be so loud. Or talk where they can be overheard."

The Master Chief approaches, a small grin barely visible under the plastic Spartan helmet casting his face in shadow. He's a mountain of a man and his current attire only makes him appear like a figure of legend. Scars, new and old crisscross his body. "We can have the weapons, as long as they're not used. Captain's permission." His eyes seem to linger on Linda and she raises her chin to meet his gaze.

"You went to the Captain dressed like that?" Veta gestures to all of him. Over 7 feet of scarred muscled Spartan in a discount costume cape and leather undies would be threatening. But perhaps if anyone could deal with it unfazed, it'd be Captain Lasky.

"I thought you were going to ask the Commander?"

"I'm trying to stay on her good side."

"By staying out of her way." Fred smirks. Veta briefly remembers something about how he downplayed the story of Blue Team going AWOL and what they were later doing on Reach.

Veta watches Blue Team talk and tries not to get distracted by all the skin on display. It doesn't help that she's unfortunately at tit level, the Spartans all have biceps bigger than her head, and the skimpy outfits leave very little to the imagination. Nor does it help that the last time she and Fred had a non-life threatening moment together, he was also about this dressed and she had hugged him.

She clears her throat and four sets of eyes zero in on her. Spartan IIs are unnerving in a different way from her kids. "So, what bet?"

"There's a costume contest some of the IVs were talking about."

"We're going to win." The Master Chief smiles, and she can see a bit more under the cheap helmet now. His smile is broader this time, mischievous.

-

"Ugh, why are we doing this?" Madsen whines, throwing down the comically tiny dull-bladed utensil to wipe vegetation off his hands.

"It's tradition, ya wimp. And we're doing that whole 'Cultural Exchange' business with the Swords, so quit yer whinin' before they get here." Grant chides from over where she's helping Hoya bring in more assorted gourds and fruits, both Terran and alien.

"Yeah, okay by why are we doing this, and not the plant nerds or Crimson?" Madsen shoots back.

Roland butts in to let them know the Swords are on their way and Thorne looks frantic as he guts a pumpkin. "Crimson's been assigned to helping the kitchens. When you win the obstacle course, you get to choose your task. The Commander said something about 'rewarding teamwork'."

Madsen rolls his eyes and picks up the tiny orange scoop. "Do I even want to know what this is? Doesn't look like a pumpkin." He drags the scoop out of the plant pod in his hands and slimy green trail follows.

"It's closer to an Earth cactus than gourd. Native to the deserts of Sanghelios, it stores water in the membrane you're struggling with and-"

"Okay! Jeez, I asked what it was, not a whole lesson."

Madsen tips the pod over and spills seeds and slime down the front of himself and Hoya laughs at him as the door slides open. Commander Palmer walks in, is immediately unimpressed, and turns to introduce their guests.

Three of the younger Swords are partaking along with Spartan Kovan from Fireteam Shadow.

Her presence makes all of Majestic blink.

"I like Halloween," She says in her thick accent, "and I am good with a knife."

Madsen makes an aborted grumble and gestures to the wicked looking knife in Kovan's hand as she guts and cleans a pumpkin in record time and the Swords huddle around her table to watch. He glares at Roland for an explanation.

"Oh that? I think it's because Palmer likes her more."

"You're a little shit, you know that, right?" He goes back to sawing fruitlessly at the alien cactus.

-

The sun had been shining when the alien cruiser had cast its shadow over your home. There were hardly any clouds in the sky as plasma and beasts with claws and fangs and wicked looking knives on their guns rained down on your city. You were on the train headed home towards the outskirts when an awful roar sounded louder than the alarms to take shelter, when the earth shook and you looks to the sky to see the elevator crumble and split.

The sun was still shining as the dust settled and you coughed and crawled your way out of the wreckage. It shone still as you marched away from where ships battled overhead and buildings toppled like a child's playthings.

Gunfire and shouting meant the UNSC was near. You had little hope in them but beggars couldn't be choosers and you take shelter to wait out the battle. The sun is lower in the sky but it still shines.

It shines through more fighting, more shrieking aircraft, and more screams. It shines as you limp and hide towards Voi. You knew someone there, friends or family or coworkers. Someone would let you in. The sun dips lower and although there's hours of light left, your blood runs cold. The hair on your neck stands.

Something new is coming. It splits the sky like a bomb and a plume of smoke and debris the color of sick follows it. The sun shines as thunder cracks and the smoking thing shakes the earth as it hits where you were headed. A cloud rises from the impact and something in the animal part of your brain tells you to turn around.

A cloud passes overhead, blotting out the sun for a moment and the sudden shade chills you to the bone. Time slows like molasses and the wind picks up. Alarms whine in the distance and you blink at the haze settling over the town. A cacophony of noise, howls and screeches, organic and inhuman all at once swells like a tidal wave alongside the fog.

The sun isn't shining anymore.

-

The autosurgeon stutters and fritzes, but restarts successfully under careful watch. Power fluctuations are less frequent and the reactors are at acceptable levels.

Acceptable.

Many things had become acceptable given the circumstances.

Machinery whines and whirs and the arm of the autosurgeon finishes its neat row of stitches. Another arm comes to prod the limb and test its range of motion. MediGel works wonders as well, closing wounds and healing burns in record time.

He still has access to one of the milder sedatives too. In case.

Things were acceptable. It would work this time.

The autosurgeon lowers the paddles, stainless steel shining in the bright fluorescent light as the machine goes offline and becomes a still skeleton in the corner.

-

Something is wrong.

He wakes from under the heavy fog of drugs, not unfamiliar, but he feels heavier, slower to respond. Speech seems impossible with how his tongue feels stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat constricts and rattles with a dry cough.

He's cold and hot and cold again, his body and the room temperature seeming to fluctuate as he comes back to himself and takes stock. It's all there, but he feels off. Frustration bubbles as everything comes painfully slowy, both movement and memory.

There were alarms. Something was happening on the ship.

It must be over if he's in Medical.

He usually wakes up in recovery though, not on the table and not still strapped down. There's some complicated tubing hooked up to his arm that doesn't seem to be saline.

Fingers twitch and closing his fist is harder than it should be, fingers stiff and unresponsive. Breathing deep is a challenge too, pain shoots up his spine as he moves wrong with a deep breath. It subsides with shallow breathing and muscles tense from keeping still.

It'll pass. It'll pass.

Acceptable. Nerve pain was never fun but what had he done to earn it this time?

Where was the corpsman to wheel him out of here?

Why was it so quiet?

He shivers on the table. The thin sheet covering him slips slightly and he's greeted with precise stitching on a gnarly looking scar running the length of his torso and disappearing into his armpit. That doesn't look good. Moving his head is hard.

It's too much to think about. It looks clean, feels numb, and the room isn't too cold anymore. Sleep comes easily when it's all you can do.

-

Statenizol gets him right back to unconsciousness. He seemed confused, but vitals were holding steady. Biometrics had changed, but that was to be expected. Shifted, but acceptable.

-

The next time he wakes it's to a steady beeping.

He gets a noise out this time, croaking a question into the darkened room, red illuminating the space around him in time with a distant alarm.

"Nothing to worry about, I have it handled. Go back to sleep, you need your rest." A voice from the ceiling says, voice off. Distant. Faded.

"Wait!" He cries out, holding onto this lifeline. "What happened?"

Silence.

He feels tired again, but it's foreign. Artificial.

He struggles to sit up and clumsily disconnects the drip, sending the pole and bag to the floor even as he stops himself from bleeding.

"What are you doing!?" The voice is back, more alive this time, near manic. "You're supposed to rest and get better! Let me fix this!"

"What's going on? Where is everyone? Why were you drugging me?" He gets louder with every question. The blanket slips more and the room turns ice cold.

Neat stitches from the autosurgeon crisscross his body, an extensive roadmap of injuries. Burns, mostly healed but still pink and covered in MediGel cover large swathes of mixmatched skin. Familiar scars greet him but are crowded out by new details.

The voice is gentle now, trying to get his attention again, but there's a birthmark he isn't familiar with below his knee. His left arm feels too long and his hands don't match.

"-what I had to. It didn't always work, but it's okay now. I'm fixing it."

"What?" It comes out to loud or quiet, he can't tell, but the voice stops.

"I did what I had to." He repeats, quiet, but then continues growing louder until the speaker on the wall explodes into static. "You were dying. The ship was dying. Everyone was dying!"

Voices overlap as static rises like a tide and he can't make out the voice's words until it shuts off. Another speaker hums to life, closer to his level, the one on the holo by the door.

"They died or they left and I didn't know what to do."

[whatthefuckjohn]

veta is chili and fred is bandit. you cannot change my mind.

[she-bear18]

Random Freta fanfic

Veta Lopis x Fred-104

Okay, first of all, ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I accept constructive criticism, but pls be kind :)

Secondly, this is my first time writing a Halo fanfiction, more specifically a Veta x Fred fanfic. There aren't enough of them out there, so I have to take the matter in my own hands !!

Thirdly, this is SHIT, no thoughts, no plot, warned you lol

MESSAGE 

Veta was still getting used to this new lifestyle. Missions back to back, little to no rest and endless paperwork. Sometimes, she longed for home back on Gao, her tiny appartment, her lovely neighbours, her remaining family...She wondered what happened to them, do they miss her ? Is her little cousin Arnie still hoping to become an investigator like her ? Does aunt Pattie still bake her famous pumpkin pie ? So many questions, no answers.  She shook her head refusing to dwell on the past, she had a report to write down, and Baby Dragon  wasn’t a very patient woman.  

She was seated in a room on a prowler (whose name she forgot as soon as her feet landed on the deck) that ONI kindly lent to her. It was small and dusty, its grey walls were tinted with some kind of whitish product that smelled like paint. There were only a desk and a chair in it, which was more than enough for Veta to write her report.  

Her ferrets were down the corridor organizing their gear and getting ready for their next assignement. A little smile crept on her lips at the thought of them. She grew pretty close to Ash and Olivia, bonding over some of their “non-classified” stories (which she found pretty terrifying considering their age). Mark was an another story. He was still very wary of her, and did’nt seem to accept her as a part of the team. Less than a few months ago, she suspected him to be a serial killer, so she understoood his reluctance towards her, but she hoped things would change for the sake of the team’s dynamic. 

She was chewing on the bottom of her pen, deep in thoughts, when her mind wandered on Blue Team. Several of her past missions involved both her Ferrets and Blue Team, it was always an honor to work alongside them.  

She continued to tap her report on her borrowed laptop when Fred’s face suddenly popped in her mind. She blushed, they grew pretty close during their short time together.    

She dared to say she missed him.   

This wasn’t an inappropriate thought...was it ? He was one of the only constant thing in her life at the moment, except for her Ferrets. They came from different worlds, and very opposite upbringings : she grew up on an insurrectionist planet who longed for its freedom, while Fred is the ultimate representation of the UNSC authority. Never in her life would she have dreamed of becoming friend with a UNSC thug. But there she was, missing him and his dry witted humor, and wondering if he was safe. 

She grabbed her commpad, oppened a private channel and wrote the following message : 

Dear Lieutenant, 

 I sincerely hope that you are having “fun” on your current classified adventure. On my part, the Ferrets are doing good. I was thinking about you lately, I dare to say I miss you.

I've got a lot to tell you, don’t go MIA until then.  

Take care, 

Inspector Lopis 

[amayavittori]

Troy Denning saw and liked my first tweet in years and I can now never let this go

[undidiridium]

Veta and the ferrets

[whotookmytomato]

Fred: ugh I'm so sick it feels like there's a hard lump in my stomach

Veta: you ate 5 pounds of raw cookie dough why are you surprised that you're sick

Fred: not surprised just disappointed

[magellanicclouds]

Head canon: does any blue team members play musical instruments? I feel like Fred would play some piano with Veta. Sorry idk much about them

Anon. I say this with full sincerity - I have no idea how long this ask has been buried away in my inbox. I got many asks while I was away recently and have noticed that as I've been answering them, new and different asks I have not seen before are popping up in the inbox - which. Okay, but they're appearing under old ones that I have specifically saved because they make me happy to look at. If they're under those, I assume this means they are even older?? If true - I am sorry if you felt ignored. ; n ;

I love this hc and in fact you tugged on my heart strings with this because I play the piano myself! Fred-enjoyer that I am, I am in love with the idea of him playing as well, and you know? I think he'd be good at it! It takes patience and discipline, which obviously he has in spades. And I do think he'd find it very calming. Veta strikes me as more of a listener of his music, but don't get me started on how super sweet I think it'd be for her to sit next to him on the bench while he plays for her. 💙 Maybe he tries to teach her some simple songs, and plenty of "accidental" hand touching results. '//U//' He's just got the patience of a saint while she continually makes mistakes on basic chords - but sly fox that she is, she's probably doing a lot of it on purpose to drag the lessons out longer. Truth is, he figured her little game out ages ago, but he plays along with the ruse because he wants this time together to last as well.

[blue-087]

Random thought of the day: you know all those pastel self deffence knives and things with like love hearts? Fred buys those or, alternatively, Veta buys them for him as a joke and he loves them and they're the only things he'll use even if they're crap

[argentumcor]

I see a lot of other Fred/Veta moments but no one brings up this one from Retribution while Veta and Olivia are looking into violent Keeper/Intrepid Eye shenanigans on Meridian Station:

"Blue Team, be ready." "Always are," came Fred's reply. "You be careful." "Too late for that, "Veta said. "You haven't been a good influence." "I'll try to do better."

You have to imagine everyone listening in- which would be probably the rest of Blue Team and all the Ferrets, possibly the Silent Joe's leadership, and definitely Administrator Sloan- rolling their eyes and wishing they'd just get a room. In this crowd, the tag-team interrogation they did on Casille surely counts as foreplay.

Give me the Fred/Veta reunion, 343. Let them be happy. Send Blue Team to the Spirit on the Ark and have them do cool stuff while you do your "soft reset" in the Milky Way.