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{elizabeth}
~ The Basics ~
~Name~
Elizabeth Marie Dubois
~Face Claim~
Rocio Crusset
~Nicknames~
Ellie, The Retributionist, crazy
~Age~
21-25 (Flexible)
~Zodiac~
Sagittarius
~Gender~
Cis Female
~Preferred Pronouns~
She/her
~Species~
Human
~Orientation~
Bisexual
~Current Occupation~
Bartender
Freelance Artist
~ Physical Appearance ~
~Height~
5'2
~Weight~
167
~Build~
Slim, bigger features like thighs but overall skinny, not very strong
~Breast Size~
34-C
~Hair Color~
Brown
~Hair Style~
Often down, in natural waved that extend to mid-back
~Eye Color~
Hazel, a mixture of light brown, blues, and greens.
~Skin Tone~
pale, a slight tan occasional
~Scars~
Several long and deep scars on the stomach, small ones from small accidents and pet scratches, etc
~Birthmarks~
Small birthmark on her right should/base of her neck
~Personality ~
~Likes~
Art, blood, being alone, drinking
~Dislikes~
People who don't pay for their mistakes, smart asses, cocky men
~Habits~
Bites down roughly on her lip, smokes (though she is trying to stop), tendency to lash out in anger from time to time
~Fears~
Pistanthrophobia- Fear of trusting people
Thanatophobia- Fear of loosing a loved one
~Introvert or Extrovert~
She is charismatic when she wants to be, and only when it would directly benefit her. She is closed off and really would rather be alone with her art.
~ Relationships ~
~Mother~
Name: Hannah Dubois
Status: Deceased
Other: Elizabeth lived alone with her mother until she died, which was very hard on her. They we're very close, as she was her mother.
~Father~
Name: Unknown
Status: Unknown
~Grandfather~
Name: Thomas Dubois
Status: Depends on the roleplay
Other: Elizabeth lived with her grandfather for most of her life, but after she moved out, she didn't have any contact with him.
~Significant Other~
N/A
~ Extra ~
~Hobbies~
Drawing, painting, drinking, reading
~Voice~
Soft-spoken, warm, the tone is very flexible though it can't go too high or too low
~Dominant Hand~
Right
~Smokes?~
Yes
~Drinks?~
Often
~Addictions?~
None
~Scent~
Lavender (due to the brand of soap she uses)
~Physical Ailments~
Has really bad eyesight and usually wears contacts, but she does have a pair of glasses that she occasionally uses
~Mental Ailments~
Depression, Sadistic Personality Disorder, Insomnia, Parasomnia (nightmares), Bipolar
~Biography~
Elizabeth was born to a single mother. She didn’t have a father and as far as she was concerned, she was not in need of one. Her mother loved her daughter, more than anything. The fact she had actually been considering having an abortion after that one-night stand was a deep regret now. Her daughter helped her continue through life.
Elizabeth and her mother, Hannah, lived alone in a small house in the suburbs of Central Florida. Her mother had a job as a Lawyer and made good money. They lived comfortably. Elizabeth attended school like normal, got good grades, and was an overall good kid. Sure, that one time she pushed a classmate down did go on her record, but that little bitch deserved it. She said that her braid looked stupid and her mother did not braid her hair that morning for it to be criticized. So yes, poor Sarah was pushed down that day. She didn’t get into too much trouble at home, after explaining what had occurred. Hannah saw her daughter’s reasoning and was sure to tell her other alternatives to pushing down every other first grader that looked at her the wrong way.
Elizabeth’s childhood was normal and enjoyable up until the nice age of 12. She no longer had mosquito bites on her chest, she found out that it was apparently normal for women to bleed…down there, oh and what else…? Oh, yes, her mother was informed that she had cancer.
She tried to hide it for quite a while. She continued working, completely denying the fact that she was dying. Everything in Elizabeth’s memory goes a bit fuzzy until her mother is hospitalized. Elizabeth is sent to live with her grandfather, who she was somewhat close with, and there she was finally given a full explanation.
She had lung cancer. Small Cell Lung Cancer, to be exact. She was already in stage III when she was first diagnosed, but now she was in stage IV. Stage IV Small Cell Lung Cancer has a 2% survival rate. The cancer had already spread to the other lung. The doctors all told her that Small Cell Lung Cancer reacts very well to treatment, and failed to inform her that after said treatment, it comes back stronger and more resistant.
Elizabeth picked up drawing. Occasionally, she would bring something in for her mother to see and she would praise her, praise her just like she did when she successfully went potty for the first time. Because as she looked to her left at her daughter, drawing a mediocre tree, she saw her little girl. The little girl that she came home to and complained about a client. The little girl she played dress up with. The little girl she attended countless birthday parties for. The little girl that she would tickle just to see her smile after she had a bad dream. The little girl who was afraid of her closet a few years ago. The little girl that refused to eat her broccoli when she was four. She saw her little girl.
Something Elizabeth would never be able to make leave her ears was the sounds of her mother’s heart flat lining; the sound of a nurse’s voice come over the intercom to alert the hospital’s staff of the emergency. She would never be able to shake the feeling she got as she looked over at her mother to ask if she could go check on the neighboring patient’s room, because that obviously had to be the source of said emergency, and seeing her eyes shut and her face turned towards her.
Elizabeth continued living with her grandfather. He loved her a ton, but nothing would be able to replace a mother’s love. The young girl spiraled into a steep depression, one that she never really fully left. Her teenage years continued as predicted. Grades slipped, artistic passion pursued, isolation. She didn’t make many friends, just two: Avery and Chris. They didn’t know each other but they helped Elizabeth in different ways.
Avery was the best friend Elizabeth could ever ask for. They did everything together, practically glued at the hips. They alternated whose house they slept over at, skipped school together, shared every inch of each other’s life with the other.
Chris was always a charmer, one that Elizabeth easily fell for. They dated her entire high school career. She thought she was getting better but she wasn’t. Avery didn’t like Chris, at all, from the very beginning. This caused a very small argument that was quickly resolved, but her dislike continued. Chris was her first boyfriend and took many other firsts.
Chris had the ability to convince Elizabeth to do many things she didn’t want to. He made her drink at parties when she didn't want to and have sex when she really didn't want to. He played her like she was a game and somehow made Elizabeth believe she was winning. He even got her to move away from the only family she had when she was 18. He would often her angry with her, yell and scream over something minuscule. He always apologized though.
Her basis for what a healthy relationship was now twisted. A healthy relationship meant that sometimes you felt scared with your partner, that their happiness came over yours, and that they always got the final say.
Chris managed to get her to move away with him. They lived in the fairy tale of a relationship for quite a while. That was, until Elizabeth gave him a hard ‘no’. He followed it with a hard slap.
Elizabeth was stuck in a state for the next few weeks. She listened without objection. She was a very obedient pet. And then she said ‘no’ again. She took a step back until she hit a wall and…and well very non-pleasant things followed. He needed to teach her a lesson and said lesson eventually included a knife.
And then, she continued on again. She became obedient and she listened well. He couldn't hit her for saying no anymore, so it was other things now. It was not having dinner ready when he got home, it was something on the ground, it was how slowly she was moving, it was the way she was breathing. He wanted to do anything to get a chance to hurt her.
They stayed together until she was 21 and he proposed. Elizabeth guessed that it was the idea of having to live with him for the rest of her life that made her speak up, that made her sneak out in the middle of the night to take a cab to the police station.
What she told the police was that he hit her. He hit her and hurt her until he was satisfied with the damage he had caused. She told them that he had actually done something that night to her, and she had a rape kit done. She didn't tell how he got off on seeing her pain, seeing her cry. They didn't need to know that, so she kept it to herself.
She moved in with Avery, who had followed her to the city she now lived in, until she felt as though she could move into an house on her own. She still didn't feel...right. She still felt as if she did something wrong, she would pay dearly for it. She couldn't even paint without it feeling off.
Oh, but she found out why it felt off a year later.
They reviewed Chris's case. They said that he had exhibited excellent behavior and that he should be looked at for getting out early. Avery believed it was because his father paid someone who knew someone.
But he got out.
The bastard got out of prison, despite all of the pain and suffering he had subjected her to. He got out even though he had absolutely ruined her life.
He got away with it for just one year in prison and five years parole. He got to walk around the same streets she did, he got to be free and she had to be trapped by everything he had done for the rest of her life?
She didn't...plan on doing anything. She didn't think anyone really did plan on doing something morally wrong when they left the house for the day. She had just been going to the grocery store, and she saw him. She saw him flirting with some cashier in lane two, she saw him smiling. Smiling! After what he had done to her?
Elizabeth abandoned her basket and she walked outside. She needed the fresh air. She didn't expect him to leave so quickly after having just seen him checking out.
She wasn't really sure what he was expecting. She had walked up to him, and asked if they could just...talk. She wanted to talk about everything that had happened, catch up a bit.
And the dumbass accepted.
They walked and talked the entire way back to her place. She even laughed with him, told him that she had found a different job at someone sh*tty office.
And he was buying all of it.
When they got back to her house, she asked if he wanted anything to eat. She went to the kitchen, and she made in him dinner as if nothing had changed, as of she was still under his thumb.
She wasn't sure what she was going to do at first. She wanted to do something, anything to make him feel the pain he made her feel.
And then an idea struck her.
She's always had rat poison underneath the sink in the kitchen. It had been in the basement when she moved in, and decided to put it up in case she ever did need to use it.
Who knew it would be to poison her ex-boyfriend?
She cooked, added a bit of poison the more she stirred the sauce and the pasta together.
He ate, and nothing happened at first. And then he said he started to feel off. And then he began to violently cough, and soon blood was splattered against her table.
Elizabeth hadn't touched her food, but she had been drinking some wine she had poured. She lifted her glass as she saw Chris spit up blood, and took a sip.
"You're making a terrible mess, you're going to have to clean that up."
He died shortly after that, falling to the ground after trying to stand up.
She finished her glass before getting up and bending down beside him.
She felt...a pang of something when she saw his blood. He had drawn blood from her so many times whether it was from punches or hits or something else.
She figured it would only be fair for her to return the gesture.
She cut his wrist, over a plastic container so she wouldn't make a mess. She cut deeply, and there was a lot of blood. And the blood had been...so vibrant.
She didn't dump the blood just yet, because she needed to deal with him. She closed the open wound he had with a lighter and a knife. She didn't care of she did it correctly or not, it stopped the bleeding.
She needed to figure out what she was going to do with him.
She didn't have a boat to be able to chum waters with, and she didn't have an animal that she could feed him to, so she figured burying him would be the most logical thing to do.
And thus, her garden started. She cut him up with an ax she kept under her bed rather than a gun, and buried him in her backyard where roses are now growing.
After she went back inside, she was utterly exhausted. Digging six, eight foot holes was hard work. She just wanted to relax.
She took a shower and sat herself down on her bed. Her eyes had darted over to a canvas that only had vague pencil lines of what she had been planning on painting. She never got the paint for it, and she hadn't painted in years so she only had tubes of white and black paint for mixing colors, and a little bit of yellow paint leftover from another painting attempt. But she wanted to paint.
Elizabeth found that mixing blood with paint was a very good method of coloring paint. She also found, that using blood of people you hated was poetic in that you were using your hatred to create something beautiful.
She really thought that was going to be it. She thought she was finally going to be able to live her life, paint something artistic in regards to the revenge she had gotten, and continue like a normal person.
But then she saw something on the news about how a man didn't get any jail time even though he filed guilty to sexually harassing a woman in the workplace.
And then she saw how a man was let go on charges of rape because the victim didn't want to press charges.
And then she realized.
The system was far too f***ed up for disgusting people to get away with disgusting crimes. Someone had to do it, and it would be absolutely beautiful afterwards. She could make sure they knew how it felt.
So she did.
~Name~
Elizabeth Marie Dubois
~Face Claim~
Rocio Crusset
~Nicknames~
Ellie, The Retributionist, crazy
~Age~
21-25 (Flexible)
~Zodiac~
Sagittarius
~Gender~
Cis Female
~Preferred Pronouns~
She/her
~Species~
Human
~Orientation~
Bisexual
~Current Occupation~
Bartender
Freelance Artist
~ Physical Appearance ~
~Height~
5'2
~Weight~
167
~Build~
Slim, bigger features like thighs but overall skinny, not very strong
~Breast Size~
34-C
~Hair Color~
Brown
~Hair Style~
Often down, in natural waved that extend to mid-back
~Eye Color~
Hazel, a mixture of light brown, blues, and greens.
~Skin Tone~
pale, a slight tan occasional
~Scars~
Several long and deep scars on the stomach, small ones from small accidents and pet scratches, etc
~Birthmarks~
Small birthmark on her right should/base of her neck
~Personality ~
~Likes~
Art, blood, being alone, drinking
~Dislikes~
People who don't pay for their mistakes, smart asses, cocky men
~Habits~
Bites down roughly on her lip, smokes (though she is trying to stop), tendency to lash out in anger from time to time
~Fears~
Pistanthrophobia- Fear of trusting people
Thanatophobia- Fear of loosing a loved one
~Introvert or Extrovert~
She is charismatic when she wants to be, and only when it would directly benefit her. She is closed off and really would rather be alone with her art.
~ Relationships ~
~Mother~
Name: Hannah Dubois
Status: Deceased
Other: Elizabeth lived alone with her mother until she died, which was very hard on her. They we're very close, as she was her mother.
~Father~
Name: Unknown
Status: Unknown
~Grandfather~
Name: Thomas Dubois
Status: Depends on the roleplay
Other: Elizabeth lived with her grandfather for most of her life, but after she moved out, she didn't have any contact with him.
~Significant Other~
N/A
~ Extra ~
~Hobbies~
Drawing, painting, drinking, reading
~Voice~
Soft-spoken, warm, the tone is very flexible though it can't go too high or too low
~Dominant Hand~
Right
~Smokes?~
Yes
~Drinks?~
Often
~Addictions?~
None
~Scent~
Lavender (due to the brand of soap she uses)
~Physical Ailments~
Has really bad eyesight and usually wears contacts, but she does have a pair of glasses that she occasionally uses
~Mental Ailments~
Depression, Sadistic Personality Disorder, Insomnia, Parasomnia (nightmares), Bipolar
~Biography~
Elizabeth was born to a single mother. She didn’t have a father and as far as she was concerned, she was not in need of one. Her mother loved her daughter, more than anything. The fact she had actually been considering having an abortion after that one-night stand was a deep regret now. Her daughter helped her continue through life.
Elizabeth and her mother, Hannah, lived alone in a small house in the suburbs of Central Florida. Her mother had a job as a Lawyer and made good money. They lived comfortably. Elizabeth attended school like normal, got good grades, and was an overall good kid. Sure, that one time she pushed a classmate down did go on her record, but that little bitch deserved it. She said that her braid looked stupid and her mother did not braid her hair that morning for it to be criticized. So yes, poor Sarah was pushed down that day. She didn’t get into too much trouble at home, after explaining what had occurred. Hannah saw her daughter’s reasoning and was sure to tell her other alternatives to pushing down every other first grader that looked at her the wrong way.
Elizabeth’s childhood was normal and enjoyable up until the nice age of 12. She no longer had mosquito bites on her chest, she found out that it was apparently normal for women to bleed…down there, oh and what else…? Oh, yes, her mother was informed that she had cancer.
She tried to hide it for quite a while. She continued working, completely denying the fact that she was dying. Everything in Elizabeth’s memory goes a bit fuzzy until her mother is hospitalized. Elizabeth is sent to live with her grandfather, who she was somewhat close with, and there she was finally given a full explanation.
She had lung cancer. Small Cell Lung Cancer, to be exact. She was already in stage III when she was first diagnosed, but now she was in stage IV. Stage IV Small Cell Lung Cancer has a 2% survival rate. The cancer had already spread to the other lung. The doctors all told her that Small Cell Lung Cancer reacts very well to treatment, and failed to inform her that after said treatment, it comes back stronger and more resistant.
Elizabeth picked up drawing. Occasionally, she would bring something in for her mother to see and she would praise her, praise her just like she did when she successfully went potty for the first time. Because as she looked to her left at her daughter, drawing a mediocre tree, she saw her little girl. The little girl that she came home to and complained about a client. The little girl she played dress up with. The little girl she attended countless birthday parties for. The little girl that she would tickle just to see her smile after she had a bad dream. The little girl who was afraid of her closet a few years ago. The little girl that refused to eat her broccoli when she was four. She saw her little girl.
Something Elizabeth would never be able to make leave her ears was the sounds of her mother’s heart flat lining; the sound of a nurse’s voice come over the intercom to alert the hospital’s staff of the emergency. She would never be able to shake the feeling she got as she looked over at her mother to ask if she could go check on the neighboring patient’s room, because that obviously had to be the source of said emergency, and seeing her eyes shut and her face turned towards her.
Elizabeth continued living with her grandfather. He loved her a ton, but nothing would be able to replace a mother’s love. The young girl spiraled into a steep depression, one that she never really fully left. Her teenage years continued as predicted. Grades slipped, artistic passion pursued, isolation. She didn’t make many friends, just two: Avery and Chris. They didn’t know each other but they helped Elizabeth in different ways.
Avery was the best friend Elizabeth could ever ask for. They did everything together, practically glued at the hips. They alternated whose house they slept over at, skipped school together, shared every inch of each other’s life with the other.
Chris was always a charmer, one that Elizabeth easily fell for. They dated her entire high school career. She thought she was getting better but she wasn’t. Avery didn’t like Chris, at all, from the very beginning. This caused a very small argument that was quickly resolved, but her dislike continued. Chris was her first boyfriend and took many other firsts.
Chris had the ability to convince Elizabeth to do many things she didn’t want to. He made her drink at parties when she didn't want to and have sex when she really didn't want to. He played her like she was a game and somehow made Elizabeth believe she was winning. He even got her to move away from the only family she had when she was 18. He would often her angry with her, yell and scream over something minuscule. He always apologized though.
Her basis for what a healthy relationship was now twisted. A healthy relationship meant that sometimes you felt scared with your partner, that their happiness came over yours, and that they always got the final say.
Chris managed to get her to move away with him. They lived in the fairy tale of a relationship for quite a while. That was, until Elizabeth gave him a hard ‘no’. He followed it with a hard slap.
Elizabeth was stuck in a state for the next few weeks. She listened without objection. She was a very obedient pet. And then she said ‘no’ again. She took a step back until she hit a wall and…and well very non-pleasant things followed. He needed to teach her a lesson and said lesson eventually included a knife.
And then, she continued on again. She became obedient and she listened well. He couldn't hit her for saying no anymore, so it was other things now. It was not having dinner ready when he got home, it was something on the ground, it was how slowly she was moving, it was the way she was breathing. He wanted to do anything to get a chance to hurt her.
They stayed together until she was 21 and he proposed. Elizabeth guessed that it was the idea of having to live with him for the rest of her life that made her speak up, that made her sneak out in the middle of the night to take a cab to the police station.
What she told the police was that he hit her. He hit her and hurt her until he was satisfied with the damage he had caused. She told them that he had actually done something that night to her, and she had a rape kit done. She didn't tell how he got off on seeing her pain, seeing her cry. They didn't need to know that, so she kept it to herself.
She moved in with Avery, who had followed her to the city she now lived in, until she felt as though she could move into an house on her own. She still didn't feel...right. She still felt as if she did something wrong, she would pay dearly for it. She couldn't even paint without it feeling off.
Oh, but she found out why it felt off a year later.
They reviewed Chris's case. They said that he had exhibited excellent behavior and that he should be looked at for getting out early. Avery believed it was because his father paid someone who knew someone.
But he got out.
The bastard got out of prison, despite all of the pain and suffering he had subjected her to. He got out even though he had absolutely ruined her life.
He got away with it for just one year in prison and five years parole. He got to walk around the same streets she did, he got to be free and she had to be trapped by everything he had done for the rest of her life?
She didn't...plan on doing anything. She didn't think anyone really did plan on doing something morally wrong when they left the house for the day. She had just been going to the grocery store, and she saw him. She saw him flirting with some cashier in lane two, she saw him smiling. Smiling! After what he had done to her?
Elizabeth abandoned her basket and she walked outside. She needed the fresh air. She didn't expect him to leave so quickly after having just seen him checking out.
She wasn't really sure what he was expecting. She had walked up to him, and asked if they could just...talk. She wanted to talk about everything that had happened, catch up a bit.
And the dumbass accepted.
They walked and talked the entire way back to her place. She even laughed with him, told him that she had found a different job at someone sh*tty office.
And he was buying all of it.
When they got back to her house, she asked if he wanted anything to eat. She went to the kitchen, and she made in him dinner as if nothing had changed, as of she was still under his thumb.
She wasn't sure what she was going to do at first. She wanted to do something, anything to make him feel the pain he made her feel.
And then an idea struck her.
She's always had rat poison underneath the sink in the kitchen. It had been in the basement when she moved in, and decided to put it up in case she ever did need to use it.
Who knew it would be to poison her ex-boyfriend?
She cooked, added a bit of poison the more she stirred the sauce and the pasta together.
He ate, and nothing happened at first. And then he said he started to feel off. And then he began to violently cough, and soon blood was splattered against her table.
Elizabeth hadn't touched her food, but she had been drinking some wine she had poured. She lifted her glass as she saw Chris spit up blood, and took a sip.
"You're making a terrible mess, you're going to have to clean that up."
He died shortly after that, falling to the ground after trying to stand up.
She finished her glass before getting up and bending down beside him.
She felt...a pang of something when she saw his blood. He had drawn blood from her so many times whether it was from punches or hits or something else.
She figured it would only be fair for her to return the gesture.
She cut his wrist, over a plastic container so she wouldn't make a mess. She cut deeply, and there was a lot of blood. And the blood had been...so vibrant.
She didn't dump the blood just yet, because she needed to deal with him. She closed the open wound he had with a lighter and a knife. She didn't care of she did it correctly or not, it stopped the bleeding.
She needed to figure out what she was going to do with him.
She didn't have a boat to be able to chum waters with, and she didn't have an animal that she could feed him to, so she figured burying him would be the most logical thing to do.
And thus, her garden started. She cut him up with an ax she kept under her bed rather than a gun, and buried him in her backyard where roses are now growing.
After she went back inside, she was utterly exhausted. Digging six, eight foot holes was hard work. She just wanted to relax.
She took a shower and sat herself down on her bed. Her eyes had darted over to a canvas that only had vague pencil lines of what she had been planning on painting. She never got the paint for it, and she hadn't painted in years so she only had tubes of white and black paint for mixing colors, and a little bit of yellow paint leftover from another painting attempt. But she wanted to paint.
Elizabeth found that mixing blood with paint was a very good method of coloring paint. She also found, that using blood of people you hated was poetic in that you were using your hatred to create something beautiful.
She really thought that was going to be it. She thought she was finally going to be able to live her life, paint something artistic in regards to the revenge she had gotten, and continue like a normal person.
But then she saw something on the news about how a man didn't get any jail time even though he filed guilty to sexually harassing a woman in the workplace.
And then she saw how a man was let go on charges of rape because the victim didn't want to press charges.
And then she realized.
The system was far too f***ed up for disgusting people to get away with disgusting crimes. Someone had to do it, and it would be absolutely beautiful afterwards. She could make sure they knew how it felt.
So she did.
{rules}
Yes, rules.
-Please try to write more than one line. I can understand the appeal, but I’m not on here for long stretches of time that would make a roleplay like this that enticing for either party.
-Talk to me first before going into a roleplay. I like to set up a plot and what not beforehand so I actually know what I'm doing. If you have an idea right of the bat, let me here it! I’m more than okay with going along with an idea that sounds interesting!
- If we do roleplay, then please do not control my character or make your character this amazing, almighty person who can do anything.
-If you friend me first, message me first.
-If you're not okay with something, you're going to have to tell me. I deal with darker themes like depression and suicide, so tell me if something is going to cross the line with you beforehand. If something comes up that you’re not cool with, let me know and it won’t happen again. I’m going to respect whatever boundary you draw, and I’d like the same in return.
- This is all pretty basic stuff, but you'd be surprised.
-Comment your favorite song if you've read and therefore agree to the rules above
-Please try to write more than one line. I can understand the appeal, but I’m not on here for long stretches of time that would make a roleplay like this that enticing for either party.
-Talk to me first before going into a roleplay. I like to set up a plot and what not beforehand so I actually know what I'm doing. If you have an idea right of the bat, let me here it! I’m more than okay with going along with an idea that sounds interesting!
- If we do roleplay, then please do not control my character or make your character this amazing, almighty person who can do anything.
-If you friend me first, message me first.
-If you're not okay with something, you're going to have to tell me. I deal with darker themes like depression and suicide, so tell me if something is going to cross the line with you beforehand. If something comes up that you’re not cool with, let me know and it won’t happen again. I’m going to respect whatever boundary you draw, and I’d like the same in return.
- This is all pretty basic stuff, but you'd be surprised.
-Comment your favorite song if you've read and therefore agree to the rules above