Post by Elizabeth Grace Sterling on Jan 5, 2014 20:45:14 GMT -7
elizabeth grace sterling
Liz
19 • female • straight • patient- (almost severed throat)
personality
Liz is a loner and dedicates almost all of her time to her work. She has a strong sense of justice, which drives her to solve a case by any means necessary. She’s prone to biting off more than she can chew when it comes to pursuing ‘criminals.’Despite her difficulties, Liz very kind. She was raised with “Southern Hospitality” and calls authority figures “Sir" and “Ma’am.” She keeps to herself and it takes awhile for her to warm up to someone. But if you hurt anyone, be prepared for a vengeful ball of fire. Liz won’t stop until you pay, even more so if it's a person she cares about. She’s less vindictive with people she knows, but she won’t fully trust you again.
Liz is courageous and very selfless, willing to give up her own life to make sure that others were safe. Liz is experiencing difficulties in accepting her mother's abandonment and her survivor's guilt. She would have done anything to trade places with her, and she blames herself for not doing something, anything. On the flip side, Liz doesn’t fear death. Such thinking makes her reckless, jumping into danger feet first. Once she latches onto something she never lets go. Maybe that’s another reason as to what made her a great problem solver, but that’s also what’s broken her. If someone dies she won’t stop blaming herself and will get revenge at any cost. Every death, every person she doesn't save is her fault. Everything is on her. She's responsible for everyone.
She puts on a front of toughness, and she’s scared that she’ll form an attachment and then something will happen to sever that. Her track record of relationships has proved this. It’s one of the reasons she kept running away from foster homes. She didn’t want to give the family the chance to abandon her. To be frank she has trust issues, and doesn't give it out easily, especially to males. She was raised Catholic and believes in God, always keeping her gold cross on. It serves as both a source of comfort and strength.
Liz is courageous and very selfless, willing to give up her own life to make sure that others were safe. Liz is experiencing difficulties in accepting her mother's abandonment and her survivor's guilt. She would have done anything to trade places with her, and she blames herself for not doing something, anything. On the flip side, Liz doesn’t fear death. Such thinking makes her reckless, jumping into danger feet first. Once she latches onto something she never lets go. Maybe that’s another reason as to what made her a great problem solver, but that’s also what’s broken her. If someone dies she won’t stop blaming herself and will get revenge at any cost. Every death, every person she doesn't save is her fault. Everything is on her. She's responsible for everyone.
She puts on a front of toughness, and she’s scared that she’ll form an attachment and then something will happen to sever that. Her track record of relationships has proved this. It’s one of the reasons she kept running away from foster homes. She didn’t want to give the family the chance to abandon her. To be frank she has trust issues, and doesn't give it out easily, especially to males. She was raised Catholic and believes in God, always keeping her gold cross on. It serves as both a source of comfort and strength.
background
BIRTH
You are seven, hiding under the covers like that might magically block out the sound. Mommy and Daddy are fighting. Again. You hold your breath, waiting for the inevitable smack as hand meets flesh. It comes. Your mother’s in pain and there’s nothing you can do. You curl up tighter and squeeze your eyes shut. Everything will be better in the morning.
You are 9, 10 in a few months according to the calendar. Your mother has died. You ask how, but they don’t tell you. Your father acts upset, but you know he isn’t. Not really. At the funeral he places a heavy hand on your shoulder and you flinch away. While your father speaks to the priest, you stand above your mother’s coffin with your back to the pair and say goodbye.
You are 11, sitting cross legged in the library aisle. Detective novels are piled around you, and you have your nose stuck in a Nancy Drew. Maybe if you read enough mysteries, gather enough knowledge, you’ll be able to fight your father. You understand the concept of revenge. It’s what you hope. You walk up to the counter. “I-I-I’d like to check these out.” You hear snickering from behind you. Your stuttering always causes them to snicker. You turn on your heels, balancing the pile in your arms as you walk out. You don’t look at them. Don’t let them see you sweat. It’s something you read once. You wait until you’re on the
sidewalk going home before you let the tears drip down your cheeks.
DEATH
You are 16, bumping shoulders with your fellow students. You are the new kid in school, after moving to Seattle. You hide the bruises under long sleeves and makeup. You shy away from male teachers, and males in general. You finally know how your mother died. Drowned in the bathtub after taking one too many sleeping pills. She’d been having trouble, you remember. No doubt they had been administered by your father. There is a fight in the hallway and you sprint toward it. A younger boy is being bullied by an older one, a jock. You step between them, taking the bully by surprise as you slam him against the lockers, fire in your eyes. He mutters ‘crazy bitch’ under his breath as he breaks free and walks away, rubbing his shoulder. The younger boy looks up at you, awestruck. You leave without another word. Word gets around fast, and you find yourself in the principal's chair. You are to be sent home. You know you’re going to get worse this time around, and you try to speak but your father is already there, with the same heavy hand on your shoulder. The car ride is silent, he is fuming, waiting to erupt. The minute you get home he does.
You are 19 and you live on the bottom floor, and it’s probably the only reason you’re still alive. After years, you’ve decided to take this into your own hands. You dial the phone, calling 9-1-1. The women answers. You can only manage the words ‘father and hurt me’ before he pulls the phone from your grasp, allowing it to slam against the kitchen cabinet by it’s cord. He doesn’t notice the phone anymore, all his attention is focused on you. He is set him off again, but apparently it was the breaking point. He takes the Harpy knife he has for ‘protection.’ You run, but there isn’t anywhere you can. Your fingers fumble with the chain lock, and suddenly he’s behind you. You fight back with everything you have, but the cold steel presses against your throat before blood arches from your neck, creating a spray pattern on the door. You remember falling to the floor, choking on your own blood, struggling to breathe. Your father is gone. The women had still been on the line, and sent for the police and paramedics.
You remember hands around your throat, being lifted up as if entering Heaven. A mask is placed over your face, giving you oxygen. The only thought in your mind is why. White. You see white, lights flashing overhead as people in white hover above you like moths around a porch light. They are shouting. The white turns to black.
REBIRTH
You are awake two weeks later, coming out the drug induced coma like you’ve awoken from a nightmare. In some ways it was. You sit up screaming, despite the pain in your throat. Fear causes bile to rise as you look around. Your father is still out there. He could come back at any time. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and gingerly step down. Your legs wobble. The tile feels cold under your bare feet. You stumble down the hall to ask for protection.
details
ooc - cat
time - GMT
characters - first character
face claim - Kacy Rohl
time - GMT
characters - first character
face claim - Kacy Rohl
