Lizzy Banks

Theme Song:You say it best when you say nothing at all by Alison Krauss
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=22lsYW7hzaU

Name:  Elizabeth (Lizzy) Banks
Identity: Invisible Woman

Description:

Someone must have noticed her some time, because she had a name.  She even had a nickname.  People didn't get nicknames that were invisible.  So, she concluded that her transparency happened over time.  Lizzy Banks stood at the mirror and ran a hand down her cheek and then swept back the straw colored strands of hair until they were gathered up into the messy bun at the back of her head.  A quick loop of her fingers, and a slide of a pencil and the mess remained locked to the back of her head.  Turquoise tips fanned out- a testament to another failed attempt to be... somewhat noticeable, but she'd just blended in with all the other women with Easter Egg Dye complexes.   She was growing it out now... slowly. Maybe she'd hack it off with the sewing scissors that evening.

She wasn't bad looking- that wasn't the problem.  Even with the port-wine stain on her upper back...  Port-wine.  It was a good name for it.  The raspberry-purple splotch on her otherwise pale skin looked as if someone had spilled their glass and the liquid had pooled between her shoulder blades.  It dribbled down her spine and around her waist like some creeping mold.  She slung the button up shirt over her shoulders smothering the view of it.  She was built of spare parts in most cases.  Leaning in she noted that the little brown pie pieces floating in her blue eyes were set off by the bit of red in her whites.  She needed to sleep more.  That made her pale pink lips pull downward in a tisk of herself.

She shouldn't have tried to attend that party last night.  It was a mistake. Her eyes showed it, but more notably she could feel the bruises and the scars of the evening.  Circles of people who didn't see her, or hear her, or notice when she grabbed her coat and slipped out.  Her boss would complain in the morning that she'd skipped the office party.  She'd said hello directly to him, but she was fairly certain, her presence hadn't connected.  At least she hadn't felt herself register.  That took energy- and she hadn't been strong enough.

Lizzy pulled on the coat and felt it envelop her.  There had been a time when she'd fought it- brought bright colors.  She'd even gone eccentric for a few years.  At last she'd surrendered to the comfortable.  She slipped on the loafers and moved to the door and out into the hallway.

Talent(s):
Getting her work done- Lizzy is a marvel at accomplishing near impossible levels of work during the day.

She's a reader of people.  She can sense their exterior emotions especially toward herself.  More importantly she can sense whether she is significant or a passing blip.  It is this skill that has made her what she is today.

Lizzy is a marvel with making things fit together.  She can whip things up that are useful from obscure objects.  Her mind just works several inches off normal, but that gives her a unique perspective especially for discarded items.  She has an empathy for them.

Possession:

There was always a question about how Lizzy came to obtain the pocket watch.  She had no idea- as far as she knew it had always been hers, but it was truly remarkable.  The Watch was glass.  Not just the cover over the face, but the entire thing.  From the delicate transparent hands, to the etched face and the turning web thin gears clicking away within the pellucid casing.  Even the chain was round after round of gossamer loops.  She'd always supposed it would break, but it never did.  Not even a crack.  It didn't even wind down- at least not to her knowledge. But it did not always run on time.  That... seemed to be the watch's prerogative, but it was always on time somewhere, just not always here.

Vulnerability:

One would think that the invisibility of her life was her vulnerability, but Lizzy didn't see it that way. That was reality.  Normalcy.  In fact if she were to suddenly become part of the universe, she was completely certain she'd not be able to handle it.  Too much pressure... frankly she didn't understand how other people did it.

No, her greatest problem was her Athazagoraphobia.  After all all she had was her mind.  The rest was all fleeting.  She had watched her father then her mother fade- their memories reverting further and further back, until the world vanished and so did they.  She fears Alzheimer's- it is one thing to be invisible to others, but to fade away like ink spilled into a stream... she can hardly handle that thought.

How did you get here?

She'd pressed the worn triangle for the fifth time that day.  This time it was pointing down and it was red.  She felt that was significant.  Red- stop, don't go home, stay and do another folder's worth of "to do."  Ignore the cat- she didn't have a cat.  Maybe she needed a cat?  That would draw her a little earlier to press the red triangle.  Lizzie's eyes flicked up to the string of numbers as they lit and then faded to that strange brownish yellow color.  Were they just old?  Dirty?  Did someone choose that god awful color?

Bing!

The doors rattled open.  They didn't do that in the movies- rattle.  They slid and if anything banged a bit.  Real elevators rattled a little.  She stepped into the chamber along with the three other people who had been working somewhere above her.

"Garage," she said.  It was out of habit.  She really wasn't surprised when no one touched the darkened G circle on the panel.  No one looked at her either or nodded or glanced.  Lizzy fiddled with her gloves aligning the seams properly as the slow woosh of the elevator continued down.

Bing!

Two more got on- they jostled around her.  Lizzy looked up as greetings were exchanged over her head, across her.  Someone touched the glowing L out of habit as one of those coming into the chamber indicated the Lobby.

She smiled as someone mentioned the latest book- she'd picked it up two nights before and couldn't put it down, but the previous book was better.  "Have you read..." she let the words trail off as the conversation shifted to the Eagles game that evening. A soft sigh.

The L lit up and the elevator emptied.  People moved around her, not trying to go through, but nothing was said as a man jostled her shoulder and a woman edged past on the other side. She was alone in the center when the doors closed.  For a moment she looked at the camera not so hidden in the right corner.  Could they see her?  She waved a it, but got no response.  Leaning over, she pressed the G and it lit up.

The elevator descended and then the doors opened...