Mitzi Talbot

Brief Introduction
Trauma shapes us in the most interesting of ways, doesn’t it? It affects the way we see the world, how we interact with one another. Mitzi Schmidt is no exception to that rule. Let me take you back, all those years ago, starting from the impulsive decision that birthed Mitzi into existence, to when everything changed and her whole world came crashing down: to the very moment where trauma shaped her life and decided what kind of person she would become.

Birth Name: Mitzi Schmidt
Legal Name: Mitzi Schmidt
Nickname/s: Mitz
Known Alias: Miss Schmidt

Date of Birth: 10th October
Actual Age: 20 Years Old
Assumed Age: Early to Mid Twenties
Astrological Sign: Libra

Gender: Cisgender Female
Species: Human Being/Homebrew (rp dependant)
Ethnicity: White
Nationality: British/American
Hometown: New York
Current Residence: New York
Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Height: 5ff 2 inches | 158 cm
Weight: Content
Body Physique: Content
Body Type: Content

Hair Colour: Starlight White
Eye Colour: Heterochromia - Green & Blue
Complexion: Incredibly Pale
Distinguishing Marks: 'Constellation Moles' on cheek

Physical Habits: Always drinking tea
Mannerisms: Plays with hair when nervous
Health: Non verbal, mental trauma
Scent: Lemon & Vanilla
Blood Type: B positive
Handedness: Ambidextrous
Voice: Very soft when she does talk

Demeanor: Nervous and Hesitant
Positive Characteristics: Creative, Compassionate, Hard-Working, Inventive, Loyal, Supportive, Thoughtful
Negative Characteristics: Anxious, Doubtful, Easily Triggered, Fearful, Hesitant, Insecure, Reclusive, Sensitive,
IQ: Content
Diet: Omnivore - person who survives on both plant and animal matter.
Greatest Flaw: Inability to let go of her guilt
Best Quality: Her inventive and artist outlook
Personality Type: Content

Talents: Content
Hobbies: Content
Likes: Content
Dislikes: Content

Emotional Strengths: Creative, Compassionate, Hard-Working, Inventive, Loyal, Supportive, Thoughtful
Emotional Weaknesses: Anxious, Doubtful, Easily Triggered, Fearful, Hesitant, Insecure, Reclusive, Sensitive,

Aspirations: Content
Fears: Someone else dying because she talks
What brings happiness: Content
Long Term Desires: Content
Mental Health: Anxiety, Depression, PTSD
Embarrassments: Content

Penny Thomas had spent her entire life in New York. Her father Elliot and her mother Lillian were proud Americans who had somehow formed the opinion that there was no point visiting any other country because no other place in the world would ever live up to the high opinion they’d formed of their homeland. Penny had different opinions. She wanted to see the world, travel, experience life and cultures from each corner of the globe. So she’d set out to spend a year travelling to new and exciting places. Tonight ironically marked her last night of freedom as the world turned into a new century.

And what better way to mark the end of this exhilarating journey than by screaming out in ecstasy as a handsome man rocked her world on his balcony whilst the cold air sliced at their skin. A local boy by the name of Lawrence Schmidt who she’d bumped into a few times this past week. He’d invited her to go and get drinks together on New Year's Eve. One thing had led to another, and before she could blink she was naked in his penthouse, unaware that on the stroke of midnight, her daughter was conceived. It would only be a month later, after she’d returned to New York, that she realised her period was late. Following a quick visit to the drug store, Penny discovered she was pregnant. Thankfully, she’d been given a business card by Lawrence that had his number. Before she made any decisions, she called.

The last thing she was expecting was for the man to drop his entire life in England, transfer his business overseas and start up a new life in New York so he could support her and his child. A month later, they were married and living together in a modest but quaint three bedroom house. Throughout her pregnancy, Lawrence was loving and supportive, the perfect husband, and it hadn’t taken long for Penny to fall head over heels for him and count her lucky stars that it was him who had offered her a drink that fateful night. She couldn’t have been happier.


Mitzi’s arrival into this world was somewhat late. Her due date was roughly estimated to be on the 30th of September, but she was ten days late. Her mother and father had tried all kinds of methods to induce labour, but nothing seemed to be working. Apparently Mitzi was going to arrive when she was good and ready. Naturally she made it known that today was the day at two in the morning, before taking a further four hours to make her entrance into this world. But from the moment her mother set eyes on her, she was faced with an overwhelming and unconditional love for her daughter.

Mitzi was given everything a growing girl would need to be happy and healthy. But following her first birthday, the family was forced to move back to England after Lawrence’s father was revealed to be gravely ill and it wasn’t expected he would survive the next coming months. The family relocated, being there to support Lawrence and his family through the troubling times and loss. Unintentionally, they did not end up moving back for five years, shortly before Mitzi would have started school, due to the fact Lawrence’s mother became seriously ill just four months following the death of his father.

After she too passed away, Lawrence made the decision it was best for the family to return to New York so Mitzi would be able to at least have Penny’s side of the family close. Unfortunately, it would only be a year later before death stole two more members of the family: Mitzi’s parents.


Lawrence and Penny are seated in the living room of their three bedroom home, watching a romantic comedy whilst sharing a bottle of wine. Their seven year old daughter is sleeping soundly upstairs, blissfully unaware that in just nine minutes, she would be left in the ruins of what was once a perfect life. Everything she held dear would be torn away from her and she would be left blaming herself.

The sound of the next door neighbour’s dog barking wakes Mitzi from her sleep. Sluggishly, she walks over to the window and pulls back the curtain, but the garden is pitch black and she can’t see anything. Unsure what has caused the dog to be so noisy, she shrugs it off.

Somewhat awake, she leaves her bedroom and heads downstairs to ask her parents for a warm glass of milk. Her mother agrees, but tells her after that she has to go straight back to bed.

Mitzi’s mother takes her into the kitchen and pours a glass of milk for her, which she sticks in the microwave for exactly sixty seconds. While they wait, Mitzi tells her mother about the barking dog.

The microwave beeps, signalling Mitzi’s warm beverage is ready. But when her mother goes to take it out of the microwave, the sound of the doorbell echoes through the air. Her father gets up from his seat and heads to the door, but when he opens it, he is met with a gun pointed at his face.

Two armed men force their way into the house. One hits her father on the head, causing him to fall to the ground. Mitzi screams in fear, alerting the intruders she and her mother are in the kitchen. The second man orders them to come out and to stay quiet, but Mitzi won’t stop crying.

The intruders tell Mitzi’s mother to make her child shut up, or people will get hurt, whilst her father is dragged upstairs by the first man to give them any valuables they have. As much as Mitzi’s mother tries, she can’t calm her daughter down. Mitzi’s panic only increases further.

The intruder is getting angry, telling Mitzi’s mother that this is her last chance. Desperately, Mitzi’s mother pulls her against her chest in an attempt to muffle the sound of her daughter’s cries. But it’s no use. Her cries can still be heard, the neighbour’s dog has started barking again. Lights are coming on across the street.

The noise. The commotion. The fear. It’s too much. Mitzi is begging her mother to make the bad men go away. The first man comes downstairs, dragging her father with him, carrying a bag full of valuable items. The sound of sirens can be heard in the distance. And then a gunshot rings through the air.

Two. Scream. Three. Cry. Four. Choking. Five. One shot fired after the next, silencing everything but the neighbour’s dog. Two of the bullets hit her father. The first in his throat and the second in his chest. Two more hit her mother. One in the chest and the second directly in the head. The final bullet hit Mitzi in the shoulder. Her parents were pronounced dead on arrival by the police. She was rushed to hospital.


Mitzi Schmidt hasn’t spoken for three years. Not a word. In her mind, her voice is the reason her parents are dead and so, she’s sworn never to use it again. It is her greatest fear that if she opens her mouth and speaks, then someone is going to get hurt, that someone is going to die. She can’t let that happen. She won’t. No one else she loves is going to die because of her. This is how she’s going to spend the remainder of her time on this earth: as silent as the graves she forced her parents into.

Ever since the death of her parents, she has been living with her grandparents: Simon and Lillian Thomas. Whilst patient and loving, deeply religious individuals, they can’t help but feel concerned about Mitzi’s development if she remains a mute. They’ve tried everything from just being there for her to getting her professional therapy to deal with the loss. But Mitzi shows no signs of speaking. Especially not after she comes home from school with the word ‘murderer’ written all across her school bag and clothes. If anything, it furthers Mitzi’s resolve to forever remain silent.

They caught the two men. After all this time. Mitzi had been walking home from college when the detective called and told her two men were apprehended robbing a house. The bullets fired from the weapons that were seized matched the ones that were removed from her parents’ dead bodies. The markings engraved into the bullets from the barrel were identical. She should have been relieved, knowing that two dangerous men were going to be locked up and prevented from hurting anyone else. But Mitzi knew the true criminal was still walking free. She was the reason her parents were gone, she was the reason why those men pulled the trigger.

It had been over ten years since the sound of her voice had been heard by anyone, but that night when she went back home to her grandparents, she spoke for the first time: ‘it should have been me’. And that was all she said. The rest of the night was spent sobbing and struggling to sleep. She hadn’t found an ounce of closure in the news. Everything felt meaningless. Every fibre of her being was screaming to punish herself for what she’d done. An eye for an eye, a life for a life. That night, Mitzi slit her wrists. Her grandfather found her on her bed, unconscious and sheets stained red. Emergency services barely got her to the hospital in time to save her life.


It was the anniversary of the night she tried to kill herself when Mitzi found inspiration in life. Her grandmother had been baking cookies, the smell travelled all the way out into the garden and she was taken back to a memory of her childhood: of running around the garden with her father chasing her whilst her mother baked sweet treats in the kitchen. The memory was crystal clear, as if it were happening right before her very eyes: all sparked off by one simple but beautiful smell.

And that was when it hit her: she could keep the memory of her parents alive. If all it took was a smell for her to remember such a wonderful memory, maybe she could recreate more by doing the same thing. For the next six months, Mitzi started researching how to make perfume. Once she felt confident enough in her knowledge, she started creating various scents that symbolised memories from her childhood. Colours, scents, sounds, sight, everything she could remember and everything she’d felt in her heart was conveyed through the perfumes she created. Each one recreated moments she thought were long since lost. And so, the ambition was born: to share her memories with the world in the hopes that they would help others recover what they too had lost. With this, her small business was born: Memories in a Bottle.

Whilst she is pouring everything she can into making her business a reality, she knows it’s not going to happen over night. So, in the hopes of ensuring her business will become a success, she has returned to college where she has taken up studying both Business Studies and Cosmetic Science in the hopes of improving her craft.