FOSTER, Gertrude Rose

[nefariousplots]

...Gertrude Foster*
*
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!*

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...basics*

name Gertrude Rose Foster
nickname Gert, mostly—she doesn’t like her full name at all. Kay used to call her Gerda, but she could never figure out why. She’s called “flower girl” or "rose girl" at times, especially by her former neighbors in London. Her band or stage name is "Röslein."
age 27 years
gender Female
grade N/A
hometown London, England
sexuality Heterosexual
personification Gerda

...appearance*

hair color Blonde. Not "golden blonde" or “honey blonde” or even “ash blonde.” Just pale, pale blonde. She adds brightly colored streaks to it, to make it more interesting. At the moment, she’s let her streaks fade out. What color is she thinking of next? Pink.
eye color Dark brown, nearly black in certain lights
build She’s fat, to put not too fine a point on it. She’s just always been…big. The best thing to say is that she’s proportionate, all of her weight spread out evenly in her body, and that she has a fairly impressive bosom. There’s a little bit of muscle beneath her large size, though, so watch out.
height 5 feet 5 inches or 1.65 meters
clothing style Most of the time, she’ll wear something full of color and completely whimsical. If it’s bright or shiny, she’ll most likely be wearing it. She has a collection of brightly colored socks as well as a collection of fairy wings. There’s no reason to wear them, but she does anyway. Gert prefers jeans over skirts, but she doesn’t mind skirts, anyway. On her bad days, though, she’ll usually wear something nondescript and mundane, not her ordinary crazy style.
distinctive traits Gert has a British accent, and although it’s been softened by years of travel, it’s quite pronounced when she’s angry or upset. She also has glasses. More often than not, you’ll see her wearing them. She has multiple pairs, in black, brown or what have you, because she likes variety and also because she has a tendency to misplace said glasses.

...personal*

personality Gertrude is…hard to describe. The first word anyone would use to describe her would be childlike. She trusts easily and is hurt easily, and she always seems to be filled with a sense of wonder by the simplest things. She’s very touchy-feely, and has no qualms about slinging an arm around one’s shoulders, giving exuberant hugs, or using someone as a pillow. There’s something about her that’s naturally bright and cheerful, and there’s something about her that seems just inherently good. She’s the type of person that just gets along naturally with children and old people, mostly because she doesn’t condescend to them. She also has little to no filter on her mouth, meaning that she will go on about something that might make no sense to anyone but her unless she's stopped. Unlike most people without filters, however, what comes out of her mouth is almost never mean or vulgar...just strange.

She is a “giver”, meaning that she is always looking to give her help or friendship, although she hates taking and always apologizes for “being a bother.” She’s very naive, and very trusting. She’s give you her last dollar if you said it was for a good cause. It’s nearly a miracle that she hasn’t been mugged or worse already in the Big Apple. It’s hard not to like her, and it’s quite hard to find a kinder girl in New York.

That said, her childlike nature makes her rather eccentric. She has a very “why not?” personality. She sees no reason why she shouldn’t go climbing trees, or dancing in rain puddles, in the middle of New York. She likes being crazy and wild and spontaneous, but not in typical New York fashion—she doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t do anything illegal or immoral. But she still has fun anyhow. She asks strange questions, but they almost always make sense to her. For example, it’s easy in her mind to connect cats to bleach—cats are fluffy, and so are dogs. Sheepdogs are really fluffy, and kind of look like mops. Mops are used for cleaning, and bleach is used for cleaning clothes. She’s good at seeing unlikely connections. She is also quite intelligent. People may think her simple because of her child-like nature, but she’s just as comfortable discussing Romantic ideals and Nature versus Nurture as she is discussing what different clouds look like.

She is rather easy to please—give her books, bubbles, or paper and crayons, and she’ll act like you gave her a diamond. She tends to forgive easily, but if you say mean things to her, yell at her, she’ll remember every word. She forgives, but she never forgets. She usually won’t yell back, unless you get her really angry. She won’t defend herself or stand up for herself in an argument, but when it comes to other people, she won’t be afraid to tell you off. She’s much better at standing up for others.

But as cheerful and innocent as she seems, that’s not all there is to her. She’s perfectly willing to let people into her good days, her happy and cheerful side. But she never wants to burden people, never even gives them the chance to help her. She never lets them see past her quirky, colorful exterior, mostly because she doesn’t want them to see or have to deal with the bad part of her. It’s mostly due to her depression, which is what causes her “dark days”. Days, sometimes even weeks, where she doesn’t feel like doing anything. She usually does, but it’s sometimes hard for her to keep up her cheery exterior when she feels like it’s all falling apart. She’s also very self-conscious about her weight, though she’d never let anyone see that, either. She makes jokes about her weight and body; the way she sees it, if she makes the jokes first, nobody else has a chance to.

past Gertrude was born and raised in London, England, named after her mother’s mother. She lived in a lower-middle class part of town, and a lot of times they struggled to make ends meet. She lived with her mother, and honestly had no idea who her father was. Her mother was a dancer at a “gentlemen’s club,” but she worked hard to keep that from Gert. Even so, it wasn’t hard to figure out—Gert was teased for it somewhat in school, but she preferred books and her imagination to people anyhow. Other kids just didn’t understand her.

They probably wouldn’t understand, either, the way her mother could go from cheerful to sobbing in a few seconds, flat. It was Gert who worked to keep the house clean, who reminded her mother about the bills. It was Gert who remembered to hide the alcohol when her mother was on her way down, because she reached “down” even faster that way, and Gert who tried to remind her mother that just because she was feeling happy didn’t mean she could just stop taking her pills. It wasn’t like she had an entirely bereft childhood—her mother was wonderful when she was “up” and cheerful and ready to take her places—but it wasn’t the happiest in the world. However, Gert was an optimist. Instead of waiting for happiness to find her, she just focused on things that made her happy.

Like her roses. She couldn’t remember the first time she had stepped out on the roof and found a dilapidated garden full of debris. It was a total mess, but something about it entranced Gert. She remade it as a rose garden, filled with roses of every shape, size, and color. She grew to love roses, almost as much as she loved people. She took it upon herself to always take care of them. Another thing that made her happy was music. She was a singer, but she picked up a beat-up guitar somewhere and found that she liked that too. Her books made her happy. And Kai made her happy—she didn’t mind his strangeness if he didn’t mind hers. He was the only person she shared her rose garden with, and the closest friend she had ever had. He didn’t know too much about her mother, with all her problems (at least, she thought so), and she only knew some of his past. But theirs was a pure, innocent friendship of misfits. Kai was her partner-in-crime, her confidant and someone who she hoped would always be there for her—even if her brain told her not to expect as much.


And then Kai left. He never even gave her a chance to say goodbye; probably thought it would be too messy, but she could never be sure. And when he left, Gertrude found out the truth she had been afraid of her whole life:

She had inherited some of her mother.

She fell into a depression for a while, barely able to eat, sleeping most of the day away. Kai’s grandmother took care of both her and her mother for some time, because their household couldn’t manage without one person who wasn’t depressed. Eventually, Gert pulled herself out. It wasn’t easy, but she managed to banish the shadows in her mind. Mostly.

She went off and got a college degree in Music and in Library Sciences in England, with other random classes mixed in, and although she made a few friends, she’s never found anybody as close as Kai. She somewhat blamed him for leaving without warning and partially causing her depression, but at the same time, she found that she missed their close friendship. Her mother died somewhat recently, from some disease she contacted from some strange man. It hit Gert hard, but she recovered fairly well. She had been expecting it, and in some ways it was quite a relief, not having to worry so much about keeping her mother somewhat sane.

present Recently, Gert decided to move to New York City. She’s become a fairly popular indie artist under the band name or stage name “Heidenröslein”. She has a slowly growing group of fans in New York, playing at whatever gigs she can find, usually in some club or coffee shop in the evenings. One thing has always stayed the same—for the most part, she works alone. She’ll find someone to play violin or bass for a song or two, but it’s usually just her and her guitar.

Although she’s makes a decent with her music earnings, she recently found a day job as well, one that also makes her happy—the position of head librarian of the children’s section in the New York Public Library. She has a fair amount of fans there, too. Granted, these fans are only about half her height, but she loves them all dearly. She does the children’s story time, and organizes events for children. She still has her bad times, but she’s learned to deal with them. And for the most part, she’s happy. She’s not sure what she’s saving her money for, but she’s used to squirreling it away and searching for the best bargain. Because of that, she has a fair amount saved up. She lives in a pretty beat-up apartment, but she doesn’t mind it. There’s running water, there’s heat, and she can keep her small collection of roses there. It made her sad, to leave her roses, but immediately after leasing her apartment she went out and bought 7 pots of roses that she keeps in her living room. It can be a bit cramped, but she loves them almost as much as the ones at home in England.

She heard from Kay’s grandmother that he was also in New York City, but it’s a big city. Besides, she figures that if he wants to see her again, he’ll come up to her. She’s still waiting for a little bit of an apology.

family
Tansy Foster, mother, deceased
Father, unknown
No siblings

likes
~Bright colors
~Roses (obviously)
~Children , old people, and animals--in her mind, they’re all in the same category.
~Street performers
~ Bubbles
~Dress-up
~Books
~Making friends randomly
~Talking to strangers
~Spinach
~Music
~Nature
~German. She took it in high school, and learned a few German songs back in the day. She's not fluent, but she's fairly good at it.

dislikes
~Her body
~Being cold
~Snow (because it usually makes her cold)
~Her bad days
~Being lonely
~Disappointing someone
~Making people yell at her
~Bullying. She hates bullies with a passion.
~Rats. They just freak her out.
~Rap or screamo. To her, that is speaking or screaming. No singing talent is involved.
~People who tell her to “grow up”
~Pills. She's had to try antidepressants a couple times for her depression, but they make her feel...not like herself, and she doesn't like that.
~People who disrespect books. You don't fold the page or set the book face-down to mark your spot, you use a wonderful new piece of technology called a "bookmark." In case you couldn't tell, it's one of her pet peeves.

other notes She’s a strange girl, and she knows that. Usually people either love her or hate her. Also, Heidenröslein is the name of a German poem by Goethe (later a Schubert song) called "Rose on the Heath" or "Little Rose on the Field," and has a very interesting translation. It's where I got her stage name from. Gert is a rose dork and a German dork, all in one.

...literature*

book title The Snow Queen
backstory Gerda is the best friend of a boy named Kai. Together, they have a rose garden. However, one day a shard of glass from a magic mirror pierces Kai’s eye and his heart, causing him to see ugliness everywhere and his heart to turn to ice. In this view, Gerda is seen as ugly and wretched, causing him to lash out at Gerda. Eventually, he is taken in by the Snow Queen, who keeps him in his castle.

Gerda, after a winter of despair, sets out to find him, meeting a crow, a witch of summer, and a robber girl along her way. Eventually, she makes her way to the Snow Queen’s castle, where Kai is attempting to win his freedom by spelling “Eternity” in ice. She cries, her tears melting the ice around his heart. Then, she kisses him, and the ice dances for joy, forming the word “eternity” when it stops.

...roleplayer*

name You can call me Nefarious…because I don’t really go for giving my name out online. I’m kind of paranoid like that.
age 16
gender Female
rp experience Something like 6 years of experience on Neopets, and various forums for varying amounts of time.
how you found ouac A neoboard by…Beckett? A month or so ago.

rp sample

(Complete randomness of Gert on a bench in New York City)

Gert sat on the park bench, her guitar positioned haphazardly across her lap, a notebook to one side of her and a pen held by her mouth. What to write, what to write…it usually took a while, for the muses to grant her creativity or for inspiration to strike or whatever it was that usually happened, but this time it was almost instantaneous. Quickly, she started scribbling in her notebook, humming the melody that somehow seemed to fit. Although her untidy scrawl seemed incomprehensible to most, it was perfectly clear to her. This was a song based on something that had been on her mind lately. Kai.

She tried to keep from thinking about him too much, because that made her sad—and she didn’t like being sad—but she couldn’t help it. Those days had been the happiest days. Even when it seemed like her mother hadn’t gotten out of bed in months, she was still happy. Because she had Kai, and she had roses. And so a song had come up, just from thinking that “We always had roses.” That was how her brain worked, and like it or not, that was what she had to live with.

The song so far was a story-song. She usually didn’t go for them, but this one was different. It was strong. It was…her story, her song. The story of a little boy and a little girl. How they lived crazy lives in made-up world, and how life wasn’t fair to them. But they always had roses. How they were growing up, learning new things and turning into teenagers. But even in the craziness, they always had roses. And how the boy who was no longer a boy left the little girl who was no longer little, without explaining or even saying good-bye. And even though the memories hurt, she could always look at the roses and remember their laughter. Because they would always have roses.

[BECKET]

♠ A P P R O V E D ♠

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