Name: Elodie Emmeline Schmidt
FC: Sara Grace Wallerstedt
Personality: Before the accident, Elodie was cheerful and bubbly, if a bit shallow, with a love of laughter and life. Before the accident, she was impulsive and outgoing and energetic-a ball of pure enthusiasm.
Before the accident.
Now, though? Elodie is distant and withdrawn, lost in her own head more often than not. She can stare off into space for hours at a time, only half-aware of what's going on around her. Creative and whimsical, Elodie has walked through her school wearing a heavy wool jacket paired with a miniskirt and cowboy boots on more than one occasion. Her strange mannerisms and quirky ways make her seem more than just /slightly/ off-her-rocker. Flitting through the world like a bird, full of dreamy nonsense and endearing eccentricities. Elodie is very gentle-she would never hurt a fly.
Elodie is startlingly perceptive, despite her faraway eyes. She rarely says anything, but she sees /everything/. Elodie doesn't know how to explain it; it's like she can just /feel/ what's wrong, why somebody is angry or upset. Elodie can go through her entire day in a dream-like haze without tripping over something or crashing into the wall. She tends to be hyper-aware of other people's emotions, even if she can't place her /own/ emotions.
Mostly, however, Elodie feels empty and alone. After developing amnesia, she became distant and introverted, and she feels like nobody understands her. How could they, when her boyfriend came up to her and told her that he loved her, and all Elodie could do was stare at him and wonder who the hell he was? How could they, when they remember their first day of high school and what movie they saw last week and what a^2 plus b^2 equals, and Elodie /can't/?
All Elodie wants is to feel whole again. To feel like she is fully /here/, on Earth, living her life, surrounded by the people she loves. Yet she doesn't even love her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) anymore, not after the accident.
She used to love mint chocolate-chip ice cream and frappuccinos from Starbucks, everybody says. But now ice cream makes her feel like throwing up, and frappuccinos give her a headache.
She used to love singing and acting, everybody says. She played the lead role in over half of their school's productions. But now, the very thought of simply standing on a stage makes Elodie dizzy with anxiety. And she doesn't remember how to read music. Well, she can still read a /little/ bit. But what use is that?
The only part of pre-accident Elodie that Elodie feels like she has retained is her love of art. Elodie still loves the feeling of a pencil in her hand, the sight of an empty canvas spread out in front of her-however, instead of emulating the pop art styles of Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein like she used to, Elodie is now drawn to abstract expressionism and contemporary surrealism.
Elodie just wants to be happy with who she is. But how can she do that if she always feels like she is simply a shadow of her former self?
+Creative, gentle, perceptive, observant, soft-spoken
-Overly shy, anxious, distant, withdrawn, absentminded
Likes: sunrises, bananas (and banana bread, banana-nut muffins, banana milkshakes...), lemonade and honey-lemon tea, whales, mountains, nature in general, the Alaskan wilderness, art, drawing and painting (preferred mediums include colored pencil, water color, and acrylics), playing the flute, cool, cloudy days with the smell of rain in the air, the smell of wildflowers, listening to classical music/songs without words (think Lindsey Stirling or the Vitamin String Quartet), the band Twenty One Pilots, indie music in general, black ballpoint pens (a /must/ for anyone who likes doodling in class), newsboy caps and faux leather jackets, animal/environmental justice campaigns/documentaries/organizations, pumpernickel bread, mismatched socks, her older siblings, "The Perks of Being a Wallflower", "The Joy Luck Club", "In the Time of the Butterflies" (both the books and the movies, for all three), breezy, sunny days with not a cloud in sight, John Muir quotes, the color yellow
Dislikes: history (Elodie can never /remember/ anything), mint chocolate-chip ice cream, frappuccinos from Starbucks, loud and noisy people, people who won't give Elodie her personal space, people who pry too much/nosy people, when her father gets drunk and passes out on the couch, hearing about accidents caused by drunk drivers, dumb rap songs, Alaskan winters (she /hates/ only having three or four hours of daylight), people who don't realize how big of an issue the environment is, people who don't appreciate the natural world, cheesy rom-coms (she used to love them, apparently), not being able to remember something/someone, going to class (she would much rather stare off in space and doodle, thank you very much), the color black, high heels, parties, social gatherings of any kind, being the center of attention
Bio: It's the first day of junior year at Elodie's new school.
The last time she had been in a school building was in Alaska, before the accident. Elodie remembers that day vividly-she walked through the doors hand-in-hand with Lucas, her boyfriend at the time. They stopped at his locker. Lucas gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before he slipped inside the chemistry classroom. Elodie made her way to English class with a gaggle of girlfriends, chattering animatedly about the movie they saw together over the weekend.
Elodie can hardly remember anything from before the accident. She can't even remember the name of the movie. So why does she remember that one, mundane moment-walking to class while talking to her friends-so clearly?
The accident itself remains fuzzy in her head as well. She's been told that a car swerved and hit her family's car in the side one day around five o'clock in the evening, after it had already gotten dark. She'd been told that she was in a coma for two weeks.
Well, Elodie doesn't remember any of it. She does, however, remember her first thought when she woke up from the coma-
"Oh, fvck, wasn't that English essay due today?"
She can't remember what the English essay was supposed to be /about/.
Elodie doesn't know how she gets through it all. By lunchtime, Elodie just wants to go to sleep. Classes here are much harder than they were in Alaska, and besides, she can't /remember/ anything. Which President was responsible for the Trail of Tears, Mr. Bernard asks in history class. Elodie doesn't know. She tries to remember, she tries to remember her old history classroom and her old history teacher, and all she comes up with is the fact that her history teacher in Alaska had the prettiest red hair.
What's the Pythagorean Theorem, Mrs. Setty asks in math class. Elodie remembers that a^2+b^2=c^2, but she can't remember the name of her old math teacher, the one who she had for six years straight. She can't even remember her face, or the sound of her voice. Why is that?
Does anyone know who wrote "The Crucible", Miss Lelo asks in English class. Elodie doesn't know. All she knows was that, once upon a time, she was supposed to turn in an essay.
Once upon a time, she lived in Alaska, and her mother was alive, and her father could use his legs. Once upon a time, her oldest brother didn't have to give up his job at a prestigious accounting firm to take care of their paralyzed dad.
Once upon a time, Elodie had a boyfriend. And, apparently, once upon a time, she had s3x with the aforementioned boyfriend.
Elodie feels so, /so/ guilty whenever she remembers Lucas, and how hurt and helpless he'd been when she told him that she didn't remember him. She didn't remember loving him, she didn't remember /making/ love with him-she just didn't /remember/ him.
After lunch, the rest of the day flies by. And Elodie trudges home to her paralyzed father and her brother, who's working from his cramped home office, ready for anything. The Schmidts are a big family-Elodie has three older brothers and two older sisters. All of them are full-grown men and women, now, and she misses the days when their house in Alaska was filled with warmth and laughter.
She misses her friends from Alaska, too. Apparently, before the accident, before the amnesia, Elodie was quite the social butterfly. But not anymore. Elodie's former friends dissipated like smoke into the air, until she was left with two /real/ friends, and she loves them with all her heart, but she sees the pity in their eyes-and she doesn't want it. Nobody from her hometown seems to understand that she's /not/ pre-accident Elodie anymore. She doesn't like to sing and act, she hates frappuccinos, and she would rather look at art by Salvador Dali and Vladimir Kush than art by Andy Warhol. Why doesn't anyone /get/ it?
All she wants to do is feel whole, to feel /complete/. But /how/?
FC: Sara Grace Wallerstedt
Personality: Before the accident, Elodie was cheerful and bubbly, if a bit shallow, with a love of laughter and life. Before the accident, she was impulsive and outgoing and energetic-a ball of pure enthusiasm.
Before the accident.
Now, though? Elodie is distant and withdrawn, lost in her own head more often than not. She can stare off into space for hours at a time, only half-aware of what's going on around her. Creative and whimsical, Elodie has walked through her school wearing a heavy wool jacket paired with a miniskirt and cowboy boots on more than one occasion. Her strange mannerisms and quirky ways make her seem more than just /slightly/ off-her-rocker. Flitting through the world like a bird, full of dreamy nonsense and endearing eccentricities. Elodie is very gentle-she would never hurt a fly.
Elodie is startlingly perceptive, despite her faraway eyes. She rarely says anything, but she sees /everything/. Elodie doesn't know how to explain it; it's like she can just /feel/ what's wrong, why somebody is angry or upset. Elodie can go through her entire day in a dream-like haze without tripping over something or crashing into the wall. She tends to be hyper-aware of other people's emotions, even if she can't place her /own/ emotions.
Mostly, however, Elodie feels empty and alone. After developing amnesia, she became distant and introverted, and she feels like nobody understands her. How could they, when her boyfriend came up to her and told her that he loved her, and all Elodie could do was stare at him and wonder who the hell he was? How could they, when they remember their first day of high school and what movie they saw last week and what a^2 plus b^2 equals, and Elodie /can't/?
All Elodie wants is to feel whole again. To feel like she is fully /here/, on Earth, living her life, surrounded by the people she loves. Yet she doesn't even love her boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) anymore, not after the accident.
She used to love mint chocolate-chip ice cream and frappuccinos from Starbucks, everybody says. But now ice cream makes her feel like throwing up, and frappuccinos give her a headache.
She used to love singing and acting, everybody says. She played the lead role in over half of their school's productions. But now, the very thought of simply standing on a stage makes Elodie dizzy with anxiety. And she doesn't remember how to read music. Well, she can still read a /little/ bit. But what use is that?
The only part of pre-accident Elodie that Elodie feels like she has retained is her love of art. Elodie still loves the feeling of a pencil in her hand, the sight of an empty canvas spread out in front of her-however, instead of emulating the pop art styles of Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein like she used to, Elodie is now drawn to abstract expressionism and contemporary surrealism.
Elodie just wants to be happy with who she is. But how can she do that if she always feels like she is simply a shadow of her former self?
+Creative, gentle, perceptive, observant, soft-spoken
-Overly shy, anxious, distant, withdrawn, absentminded
Likes: sunrises, bananas (and banana bread, banana-nut muffins, banana milkshakes...), lemonade and honey-lemon tea, whales, mountains, nature in general, the Alaskan wilderness, art, drawing and painting (preferred mediums include colored pencil, water color, and acrylics), playing the flute, cool, cloudy days with the smell of rain in the air, the smell of wildflowers, listening to classical music/songs without words (think Lindsey Stirling or the Vitamin String Quartet), the band Twenty One Pilots, indie music in general, black ballpoint pens (a /must/ for anyone who likes doodling in class), newsboy caps and faux leather jackets, animal/environmental justice campaigns/documentaries/organizations, pumpernickel bread, mismatched socks, her older siblings, "The Perks of Being a Wallflower", "The Joy Luck Club", "In the Time of the Butterflies" (both the books and the movies, for all three), breezy, sunny days with not a cloud in sight, John Muir quotes, the color yellow
Dislikes: history (Elodie can never /remember/ anything), mint chocolate-chip ice cream, frappuccinos from Starbucks, loud and noisy people, people who won't give Elodie her personal space, people who pry too much/nosy people, when her father gets drunk and passes out on the couch, hearing about accidents caused by drunk drivers, dumb rap songs, Alaskan winters (she /hates/ only having three or four hours of daylight), people who don't realize how big of an issue the environment is, people who don't appreciate the natural world, cheesy rom-coms (she used to love them, apparently), not being able to remember something/someone, going to class (she would much rather stare off in space and doodle, thank you very much), the color black, high heels, parties, social gatherings of any kind, being the center of attention
Bio: It's the first day of junior year at Elodie's new school.
The last time she had been in a school building was in Alaska, before the accident. Elodie remembers that day vividly-she walked through the doors hand-in-hand with Lucas, her boyfriend at the time. They stopped at his locker. Lucas gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before he slipped inside the chemistry classroom. Elodie made her way to English class with a gaggle of girlfriends, chattering animatedly about the movie they saw together over the weekend.
Elodie can hardly remember anything from before the accident. She can't even remember the name of the movie. So why does she remember that one, mundane moment-walking to class while talking to her friends-so clearly?
The accident itself remains fuzzy in her head as well. She's been told that a car swerved and hit her family's car in the side one day around five o'clock in the evening, after it had already gotten dark. She'd been told that she was in a coma for two weeks.
Well, Elodie doesn't remember any of it. She does, however, remember her first thought when she woke up from the coma-
"Oh, fvck, wasn't that English essay due today?"
She can't remember what the English essay was supposed to be /about/.
Elodie doesn't know how she gets through it all. By lunchtime, Elodie just wants to go to sleep. Classes here are much harder than they were in Alaska, and besides, she can't /remember/ anything. Which President was responsible for the Trail of Tears, Mr. Bernard asks in history class. Elodie doesn't know. She tries to remember, she tries to remember her old history classroom and her old history teacher, and all she comes up with is the fact that her history teacher in Alaska had the prettiest red hair.
What's the Pythagorean Theorem, Mrs. Setty asks in math class. Elodie remembers that a^2+b^2=c^2, but she can't remember the name of her old math teacher, the one who she had for six years straight. She can't even remember her face, or the sound of her voice. Why is that?
Does anyone know who wrote "The Crucible", Miss Lelo asks in English class. Elodie doesn't know. All she knows was that, once upon a time, she was supposed to turn in an essay.
Once upon a time, she lived in Alaska, and her mother was alive, and her father could use his legs. Once upon a time, her oldest brother didn't have to give up his job at a prestigious accounting firm to take care of their paralyzed dad.
Once upon a time, Elodie had a boyfriend. And, apparently, once upon a time, she had s3x with the aforementioned boyfriend.
Elodie feels so, /so/ guilty whenever she remembers Lucas, and how hurt and helpless he'd been when she told him that she didn't remember him. She didn't remember loving him, she didn't remember /making/ love with him-she just didn't /remember/ him.
After lunch, the rest of the day flies by. And Elodie trudges home to her paralyzed father and her brother, who's working from his cramped home office, ready for anything. The Schmidts are a big family-Elodie has three older brothers and two older sisters. All of them are full-grown men and women, now, and she misses the days when their house in Alaska was filled with warmth and laughter.
She misses her friends from Alaska, too. Apparently, before the accident, before the amnesia, Elodie was quite the social butterfly. But not anymore. Elodie's former friends dissipated like smoke into the air, until she was left with two /real/ friends, and she loves them with all her heart, but she sees the pity in their eyes-and she doesn't want it. Nobody from her hometown seems to understand that she's /not/ pre-accident Elodie anymore. She doesn't like to sing and act, she hates frappuccinos, and she would rather look at art by Salvador Dali and Vladimir Kush than art by Andy Warhol. Why doesn't anyone /get/ it?
All she wants to do is feel whole, to feel /complete/. But /how/?
