'Spring cleaning' is, quite honestly, something of a misnomer in Elisabeth's regard. For one, she's of a more meticulous habit than such a term would - perhaps - usually suggest; for another, for the neatly arranged state she ensures to always keep her room in anyway, what task she undertakes now is probably more a matter of 'spring rearranging' than spring cleaning.
Still, under whichever name, the results of the are the same: a marginally (and only marginally) rearranged room and a feeling of satisfaction.
An almost dizzying uncertainty isn't commonly included in the reaped rewards, however.
For the best part of it, her routine neatening of whatever odd ends she had hitherto neglected to fix the last time reveals nothing extraordinary. Large though her room is, furniture and general belongings are scarce, so nothing is usually lost ─ nothing is usually uncovered again after however long-lost to her surprise, then. Discovering a worn cloth doll, tucked away in the recess of one of the drawers in her dresser, is thus only all the more a shock to her: if not because she had never seen it before, then most certainly because it bears an uncomfortably uncanny resemblances to herself.
And something within her twists.
A frown-inducing study reveals the likeness itself is crude, but without doubt there. At the very least, it's one eerie enough to inspire a light trembling in her hands besides that small flutter in her stomach. Quite what she's to make of it, she hasn't yet decided. Sentiment mostly falls to passing this off as mere coincidence before forgetting about the old thing (the better days that it's surely seen, it would probably be a mercy to lay the toy to rest in a material recycling centre), yet there's a smaller - though strangely more prevalent - other which urges her to keep hold of it.
When she looks up to realise what else might be mysterious hidden in the corners of the dresser, what stands in its place instead is Mother. Familiar in the same way that the doll in her hands is. There's something faintly off about her too, not least of all for the outmoded (even for the conservative family preferences) dress she wears. She's stooped before her, seeming taller than reality for no other reason - the daughter presumes - than that she herself presently sits on the floor. Gaze flickers to the hands which rest upon her knees as she bends too her height, whereupon a further surprise occurs in the form of a thimble on the right-hand thumb. Mother says something, she watches her lips form soundless words, and this serves all the more to add to the bemusement: at the least, she seems to smile through her words, but reason why remains unknown.
Eyes flicker downwards to scrutinise the plaything a second time, and she tries to place the thimble's purpose in all this. For all the traditionally 'maidenly' pursuits mother passed on to daughter, sewing wasn't one of them. Which is why her inkling that the doll is handmade - despite its appearance - doesn't quite sit right with her.
Either way, a gift is a gift.
When she looks up again to thank her mother on instinct, lips curled into a shy but truly grateful smile, however, she is no longer there ─ the dresser is where she was. Where it always has been, she's gradually to remind herself as the memory fades back into obscurity. Coincidence though her capture likeness in the simple doll may well be, she isn't dissuaded from pulling it close in a hesitant embrace.
Her mother had never seemed to be one for sentimentality, though to so much as imagine gifting her with something not only so personal, but apparently handmade at that... It isn't until a little later, when she's to rub her eyes of what she thinks to be dust , that she is to realise the beginnings of tears.
Previously answered in a fashion, but I've considered something else besides. (Though this might more so fall under the umbrella of 'scenes we'd I'd like to see', or a more general thing I would like to explore than an entire AU per se.) 'Course, within time, return of memories from a past life will reveal death from a past life: considering the two childhood sweethearts are essentially - if very much indirectly - responsible for one another's untimely demises, for one or both to have some feeling of...compassionate avoidance for fear of repeating history in some way would also prove interesting. A different interpretation of their (possibly) star-crossed paths, maybe.
It seems to have taken this form here, actually, but I should it'd be really rather interesting to have März and Elisabeth meet later on in life, rather than in fresh-out-of-isolation childhood. That element of desperation born from a shared loneliness is lost, fundamentally, so-- Yes, it'll be interesting to see how things develop in absence of what sad similarities they had shared. (*´・ｖ・)
♦someone I follow and never roleplay with but enjoy watching from afar
Oh goodness, a very great portion of people in the group with whom I have not yet had the pleasure, quite frankly ─ if not all. It's perhaps, ahem, a bit of a cop-out as an answer, though I do particularly enjoy watching from afar the ASOIAF guys, huu huu.
♣the url I wanted but didn't get
It's one letter off so I'm by no means massively bummed out about it, but I thiiiink I originally wanted supergoist!
☠a popular fanon headcanon about my character that bugs me
I'm not really aware of any, truth be told, so I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint in giving no answer here. Sorry!
❅ a character I'm tempted to play
Sir Carrot, of Cucumber Quest. I played him way back when in another mfrp, and oh goodness he is such a dear it's a shame I didn't muse him for longer.
Shopping for his parents and brothers was a task he took delight in, and when it came to his strength, it was also a task that was best suited for him than any other. Boxes upon boxes were gathered up in his arms, the objects containing that of pastries from his mother and materials to build bird houses from his father, both activities that he was meant to participate in.
Thus, he was very akin to rushing back home than using his time wisely and carefully. Quickly fast-walking to the next bus stop at Paralia, the direction, too, was not entirely focused on in favor of returning as soon as possible, resulting in becoming lost. Before he was able to reassemble himself and search for a way back, bad luck decided that the albino would trip, the boxes no sooner tumbling to the ground along with him.
And that was his last breaking point, the albino staying on the ground with tears in his eyes, the shadow of another casting before him.
Both fortunately and unfortunately, the young lady was present to see not only his helpless lying there, but also the tragedy of the fall itself. Fortune here comes, of course, in the form of witness inspiring her that bit more to rush to the poor boy's aid (though to have seen him sprawled on the ground would have been incentive enough by itself); but so, too, does her witness inspire a sort of distress which is...frankly probably greater than even his.
Granted that she herself isn't moved to the point of tears, though all the same is she noticeably wide-eyed and a touch red in the face by the time she's interrupted her own hitherto peaceful amble and trotted to the stranger's side.
As so often is the case, experience with circumstances only adds to her fretting. She does well even so in generally holding herself as she usually does, the concern writ clearly across her face as she offers a hand without hesitant notwithstanding. At first, it doesn't quite occur to her what 'I can't hold them all' could possibly mean: ignorance is amended soon enough by a momentary distraction from the other in the form of a quick glance about them, yet her gaze just as soon flickers back to the fallen.
Getting him back on his feet is the priority.
"Oh-- Oh my goodness," (she probably fusses more than she should, the little stumble that it fundamentally was, but still) "are you all right--?"
As it is, opportunities to rest and simple idle are far more frequent and numerous than the young lady admit without blushing slightly: unlike most others, she hasn't any obligations to tend to, and can thus afford to spend her time to her liking, without the pressure from any sort of work. Yet guilt regarding this idleness of hers (a largely self-imposed fuss, it must be said) aside, the greatest peacetime joy to be found is - she believes - basking in the day's beauty as she reads outside, shade from the boughs from above keeping her cool while still allowing a good deal of sunlight to filter through and dance across her page.
Music, like classical literature and dance (though less like painting, frank failure of a venture that it proved to be for all concerned), is a discipline she dabbled in at a very young age, and of which she came to have more than a fair understanding as she matured. Modesty would have her admit otherwise, but all the hours spent in lessons have rendered her really rather competent in voice and piano, and she'll often indulge in the latter to relax herself For all her knowledge of the musical masters of centuries gone by, though, she's woefully uncultured when it comes to most - if not all - other genres, much less the immediately modern and mainstream.
jewelry
While the many birthdays and Christmases (and any other holiday during which it is a custom to bear gifts, in fact) over the years have left her with no shortage of jewellery, the truth of the matter is Elisabeth isn’t one to regularly wear accessories ─ certainly, nor is she in a habit of buying jewellery for herself, unless particularly smitten by its design. The last thing she should ever want to do would be to flaunt this piece or that solely by virtue of it looking like it - and, indeed, usually having actually - cost quite a sum - but she satisfies herself while not appearing ungrateful by wearing each necklace or pair of earrings every so often. Her favourites most frequently take the form of jewellery with sentimental value, however, and it is unsurprisingly these which commonly serve as decoration if circumstances call for it.
✖/✿ !!!! sanhora wasn't really popular when i joined tumblr so i always get very happy and excited when i see more people who are into it, mainly rpers! it's such a delight to see how you portray elisabeth and your writing suits her perfectly!!!
[Ah ha ha, you and I both share that feeling, I have to confess~ Gosh, though ─ thank you tremendously for your terribly kind words, I would certainly love to thread with you some time too!]
name: kassie.
age: 18.
birthday: 15th november.
zodiac: scorpio, year of the boar.
single or taken: [canned laughter]
height: 5’...6", I think? that was a few years ago but I am nigh certain I have stopped growing.
eye color: brown.
middle name: mei.
favorite color: grey.
lucky number: 9, if anything.
SPECIFICS/DETAILS:
hogwarts house: I don't really harry potter, but-- gryffindor, apparently...?
favorite fictional character: please don't make me choose...
favorite television show: breaking bad.
favorite season: autumn!
describe yourself in a few words: lethargic philosopher-ish.
ultimate otp: ('märsabeth', the wind seemed to whisper)
what do you plan to/do for a living: IIII haven't the foggiest, beyond philosophy at uni.
THIS OR THAT:
introvert or extrovert: introvert.
dawn or dusk: dawn.
righty or lefty: righty.
coffee or tea: tea!
rain or shine: ohhh shine, I should think.
reading or writing: reading, reading~
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ I GOT into sound horizon because of you!! ive always been interested in it but i saw elisabeth and i was like dang shes cute and wow your writing is AMAZING! and... ✖✖✖✖
[Oh boy I'm honestly not quite sure how to...respond to a compliment like this--? Eee-- But, erm! I'm so happy you gave Sound Horizon a go, yes yes, and I'd absolutely love to plot and rp with either of your muses sometime! ♥]
origamiaround
areudirty
gummygunk
stormborns
dededos
