[ a roommate. that had been a little bit surprising initially, though the surprise feels silly now as she holds the keys in her hand, feeling their weight in her palm as she pulls them out of the pocket of her skirt. well. that makes sense, having a roommate. who else would she live with? her stomach turns over in doubt. ever since her concussion – falling off a ladder, it sounds like – everything is fuzzy. too fuzzy. she can barely shake her head without feeling phantom pangs of pain. it's frustrating.
there are some items that feel familiar to her for the most part as she stands out front and runs her fingers along the side of the house. there are flowers that give the place color, though she thinks they could do with more in the front yard. and what's this? a bicycle? perfect. perhaps one might find her out front, cleaning a pastel blue bike before using it.
a ride to main street sounds like a good idea, orient herself again with her surroundings ( and to take her mind off the strange contents of her suitcase. ) she at least remembers how to ride a bike. the little bell makes a small tinkling noise when she flicks her thumb against the button when she mounts it. when she finally does reach town, her peddling slows and, with an uncertain look in her eyes, attempts to smile at those who seem friendly. or vaguely familiar.
at least before putting her head down again and dismounting. maybe she should just disappear into a shop. ]
❆ glug glug's grand opening.
[ in what she hopes is near the end of this recovery phase, a few memories have returned, though she doesn't feel any more clarity than she did when she first snapped to attention in the hospital bed. between those and those strange items in her suitcase, she cannot make sense of a single thing.
but she does, to her credit, wear that snowflake necklace, having been drawn to it and the way the jewel catches the light. elsa touches the pendant as she takes a seat by herself at the bar. these self-dates have been pretty nice, though she supposes she should socialize. if anything to let those know that she is near recovery and she hopes she might jog her memories here. ]
Hot chocolate, please. With an extra dollop of whipped cream.
[ as the attendant behind the counter attends to her drink, she spins around in the chair with a swing of her ponytail, bare legs crossed at the ankles with her hands neatly folded in her lap. she's looking for – something. anything. maybe even just awkward eye contact. ]
elsa | 3-5 | town, 4106, glug glug's | ( ota )
there are some items that feel familiar to her for the most part as she stands out front and runs her fingers along the side of the house. there are flowers that give the place color, though she thinks they could do with more in the front yard. and what's this? a bicycle? perfect. perhaps one might find her out front, cleaning a pastel blue bike before using it.
a ride to main street sounds like a good idea, orient herself again with her surroundings ( and to take her mind off the strange contents of her suitcase. ) she at least remembers how to ride a bike. the little bell makes a small tinkling noise when she flicks her thumb against the button when she mounts it. when she finally does reach town, her peddling slows and, with an uncertain look in her eyes, attempts to smile at those who seem friendly. or vaguely familiar.
at least before putting her head down again and dismounting. maybe she should just disappear into a shop. ] [ in what she hopes is near the end of this recovery phase, a few memories have returned, though she doesn't feel any more clarity than she did when she first snapped to attention in the hospital bed. between those and those strange items in her suitcase, she cannot make sense of a single thing.
but she does, to her credit, wear that snowflake necklace, having been drawn to it and the way the jewel catches the light. elsa touches the pendant as she takes a seat by herself at the bar. these self-dates have been pretty nice, though she supposes she should socialize. if anything to let those know that she is near recovery and she hopes she might jog her memories here. ]
Hot chocolate, please. With an extra dollop of whipped cream.
[ as the attendant behind the counter attends to her drink, she spins around in the chair with a swing of her ponytail, bare legs crossed at the ankles with her hands neatly folded in her lap. she's looking for – something. anything. maybe even just awkward eye contact. ]