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Messages - Viktoria Borovsky

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1

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky (Виктория Юлиана Боровский)
Gender: Female
Age: 37
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education:
Durmstrang 1939-1945

Residence:
Knockturn Alley, Wizarding London

Occupation
Owner of Séance

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
Yes, I will be applying for a shop subscription to re-open Séance.

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 12
  • Divination: 5
  • Transfiguration: 8
  • Summoning: 7

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Keziah Zsofka

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
В экстренном случае
(In Case of Emergency)

Меня зовут Виктория Юлиана Боровский и если вы читаете this..then я мертв.
(My name is Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky and if you are reading this..then I'm dead.)

It was nineteen-thirty-eight when we absconded from Russia at the request of Grandmama. I was a scared ten-year-old child who knew nothing of the world and everything of the Mother Land; I was naive to think we would ever go back to the hallowed halls of Borovsky Castle. What I wouldn't give to go back to a time that was simpler and kinder than the one now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Grandmama speaks often, and fondly, of my birth. I think she enjoys recalling the day her favorite grandchild became a reality; I mean, it's no secret how much she adores me. I've seen the disdain in their eyes, when Vlad and Ana and Valen bear witness to the change in Grandmama when I'm around. I have, and always will be, the favorite; it's my prerogative.

When we arrived in Buckinghamshire, I remember looking at our new home with the same disdain. England would never measure up to the Mother Land; where we once had forests of dark and enchanting secrets, we now had fields and an openness that I would never grow accustom to. The happiest moment of my life in England was the day Durmstrang sent for me.

I was, no I am, a Daughter of the Blood. It was always my destiny to attend the school of my line; like my very namesake, I am of the Purest. I left behind my beloved Grandmama; her words were like ice in my veins and I knew that no matter what happened, or where I went, I would always remember. Смерть Перед бесчестия

Durmstrang had become my new home and Eastern Europe was my playground. The war had gradually started to build around us; Japan unleashed hell on America at the end of nineteen-forty-one and in nineteen-forty-two I was summoned back to the Borovsky homestead in Buckinghamshire.

It was in nineteen-forty-three that I joined Vlad and Ana at Hogwarts; the war still raging all around us and I was in the Great Hall eating at a table clad in emerald and silver. Where I had excelled at Durmstrang, I was considered behind at Hogwarts. I can still see the smug looks on Vlad and Ana's faces when they realized I was officially the same year as them.

I started writing and reading poetry to keep their images out of my mind and the longing for the Mother Land and Durmstrang from my heart. I have never felt so alone, even among family, as I do here. I'll keep my head up though, and continue to write Grandmama as she requested, because I'm a Borovsky and the favorite. It's my prerogative.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Viktoria had left Durmstrang for Hogwarts but had never successfully made it. Instead she chose to open her own spot in Knockturn Alley but disappeared mysteriously for a few years. She is now back, taking back her business from her former manager.

Roleplay:
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.

Option Two -
The snow had been falling steadily all morning and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Joshua Campbell scrunched his face up in a frown as he lifted his gaze to look to the sky. Snow. It really was quite a bother.

And it certainly didn't make it better that Diagon Alley seemed to be getting more and more crowded. Joshua sighed and pointed his wand at the large box that was currently placed on the doorstep of his shop. He had to get going. He had an order to deliver.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The elderly man muttered and watched the box hover in the air for a moment. Honestly, did St. Mungo's really need that much tinsel? And with glitter of all things? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for the rather convincing stamp on the order, he would have been likely to believe it had been a prank by one of those orphaned rascals living up there.

Oh well, there was no point in waiting. Joshua deftly stirred the box down the doorstep and out onto the street, carefully levitating it above the heads of the crowd.

"Coming through! Coming through!" His voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd. "Keep out! Move ahead! Go on!" This was going way too slow. People were in the way and walking like they had all day! He huffed. Luckily the road was down hill.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!" Joshua let out a loud shout as his feet suddenly slipped in the snow and sent him, the box, and several long strands of tinsel tumbling into the person who had been walking in front of him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Joshua muttered angrily as he hurried to his feet again, red and gold tinsel now decorating his black coat. "I am so sorry! This blasted snow!" He looked apologetic at the person he had crashed into.

Roleplay Response:
Viktoria had seen the incident go down, the young woman and the shoe a wreck upon the cobblestones of Diagon Alley. It had already been a long morning. Trips to the market for supplies, a stop at Gringott's to deposit some money, a quick drink at the Hag's Head; all in preparation for the event at Séance that evening. As much as she wanted to ignore the woman and continue about her way--it went against Viktoria's nature. "Here, let me help!" she called out, scooping down to pick up the broken heel. It had made it way through the feet of those traversing Diagon Alley but she had retrieved it with a little effort.

Carefully she sauntered over to where Amelia was. Hand extending the remnants of the young woman's shoe to its original owner. "I'm sorry about your shoes. They look nice." What a weirdo. Vik mentally kicked herself. "I'm Viktoria. Viktoria Borovsky. And you are?" she inquired, offering her free hand to the young woman. An attempt at returning her upright and perhaps a new friend. One never knew.

2
Elsewhere Accepted / Séance
« on: 09/06/2022 at 21:11 »
SHOPKEEPER PERMIT

Shop name: Séance
Shop Type: Nightclub
Location: Knockturn Alley
Subforum? Yes

Short Description (50 words max): An opulent underground nightclub operating under the premise of a simple hotel.
Long Description (200 words min):  There is nothing special about the outside of Séance, aside from the flashy sign that decorates the small space above a black wooden door. To the common rambler, Séance is just another place for the weary to rest their heads. A blip on the map of Knockturn Alley. Like most things, however, Séance is more than meets the eye.

Upon entering the establishment, patrons will be greeted by the front desk clerk. The small foyer consists of two emerald velvet armchairs and a black wooden desk; behind the desk a large board with various keys, notes, and slots for guests' mail. On the immediate left is a small kitchenette that offers pastries and beverages for guests between seven and nine in the morning. To the right, steep wooden stairs that curl up into the second floor and play host to six rooms, another set of stairs on the second floor leads up the the third floor where the owner resides.

Each room in Séance is decorated to reflect the personal style of its owner, Viktoria Borovsky. Large black four-poster beds dressed with crisp white linens and luxurious emerald green accents are found in each room; windows are treated with flowing satin curtains reminiscent of her Durmstrang days and a large chandelier illuminates the space. Each room has its own private bathroom and a private entrance into the heart of Séance, where the real fun is.

When guests are ready to indulge themselves in all Séance has to offer, they simply flourish their wand and utter the words 'primum non nocere' and a door, leading to a spiral staircase, will emerge and the festivities truly begin.

The heart of Séance is actually located beneath the foyer of the first floor; the walls have been painted black so that the acts appear to pop off the stage (some of them actually do!). In the middle of the large room, a round stage that allows viewing from a full 360-degree angle; the stage itself plays host to a variety of props and scenes. Around the stage, strategically placed tables that hold anywhere from 2-6 patrons.

Each table is lined with deep emerald linens and illuminated by clusters of candles that remain suspended in the air. In the back of the room, a full-service bar. Séance is Knockturn's best kept secret and most exclusive club; shows occur nightly and they are always looking for more talent.

What purpose will this shop serve other than selling things and being the home of your character? Why would people want to RP there just for fun? It can serve as a safe haven for those want all the dark and mystery without the dangers other locations have to offer.

3
Elsewhere Accepted / Viktoria Borovsky | Elsewhere Adult
« on: 09/06/2022 at 21:03 »

E L S E W H E R E   A D U L T

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky (Виктория Юлиана Боровский)
Gender: Female
Age: 37
Blood Status: Pureblood

Education:
Durmstrang 1939-1945

Residence:
Knockturn Alley, Wizarding London

Occupation
Owner of Séance

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the Ministry, Shrieking Shack) or to take over an existing shop in need of new management?
Yes, I will be applying for a shop subscription to re-open Séance.

Requested Magic Levels:
  • Charms: 12
  • Divination: 5
  • Transfiguration: 8
  • Summoning: 7

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
No

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Keziah Zsofka

Biography: (300 words minimum.)
В экстренном случае
(In Case of Emergency)

Меня зовут Виктория Юлиана Боровский и если вы читаете this..then я мертв.
(My name is Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky and if you are reading this..then I'm dead.)

It was nineteen-thirty-eight when we absconded from Russia at the request of Grandmama. I was a scared ten-year-old child who knew nothing of the world and everything of the Mother Land; I was naive to think we would ever go back to the hallowed halls of Borovsky Castle. What I wouldn't give to go back to a time that was simpler and kinder than the one now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Grandmama speaks often, and fondly, of my birth. I think she enjoys recalling the day her favorite grandchild became a reality; I mean, it's no secret how much she adores me. I've seen the disdain in their eyes, when Vlad and Ana and Valen bear witness to the change in Grandmama when I'm around. I have, and always will be, the favorite; it's my prerogative.

When we arrived in Buckinghamshire, I remember looking at our new home with the same disdain. England would never measure up to the Mother Land; where we once had forests of dark and enchanting secrets, we now had fields and an openness that I would never grow accustom to. The happiest moment of my life in England was the day Durmstrang sent for me.

I was, no I am, a Daughter of the Blood. It was always my destiny to attend the school of my line; like my very namesake, I am of the Purest. I left behind my beloved Grandmama; her words were like ice in my veins and I knew that no matter what happened, or where I went, I would always remember. Смерть Перед бесчестия

Durmstrang had become my new home and Eastern Europe was my playground. The war had gradually started to build around us; Japan unleashed hell on America at the end of nineteen-forty-one and in nineteen-forty-two I was summoned back to the Borovsky homestead in Buckinghamshire.

It was in nineteen-forty-three that I joined Vlad and Ana at Hogwarts; the war still raging all around us and I was in the Great Hall eating at a table clad in emerald and silver. Where I had excelled at Durmstrang, I was considered behind at Hogwarts. I can still see the smug looks on Vlad and Ana's faces when they realized I was officially the same year as them.

I started writing and reading poetry to keep their images out of my mind and the longing for the Mother Land and Durmstrang from my heart. I have never felt so alone, even among family, as I do here. I'll keep my head up though, and continue to write Grandmama as she requested, because I'm a Borovsky and the favorite. It's my prerogative.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Viktoria had left Durmstrang for Hogwarts but had never successfully made it. Instead she chose to open her own spot in Knockturn Alley but disappeared mysteriously for a few years. She is now back, taking back her business from her former manager.

Roleplay:
You come across one of these posts on the site. Please select one & reply as your character:

Option One -
Amelia Nixon was many things, but she was never a pushover reporter that people could just usher away with a busy shuffle past. She was dedicated and eager to cut to the very middle of the current political tensions because she was Amelia Nixon and her articles would most certainly become front page material.

“Sir, please! It’s for the Prophet, how do you feel-“

Another one brushed passed her, the shuffling busy masses making their way through Diagon Alley for the lunchtime rush. This had been the best possible time to get people, but none of them were giving her anything to go with.

Only momentarily discouraged, the short red headed lady took a seat on a nearby bench. Her quill resting in her left hand and her notepad ready in the opposite hand. Amelia pouted, tapping the quill against her leg as she scanned the waves of people for somebody - anybody - who looked like they had something to say.

She had been dreaming of her name in bold print, Amelia Nixon: The Source of Today’s Tomorrow. She had been dreaming of the larger office and the secretaries that would fetch her the morning coffee and fetch her anything she needed. The VIP interviews and the most exclusive press passes. But all Amelia had was a page seventeen piece on the rising number of frogs in London.

Hardened by a day of no success, the reporter stood up and started to trod off down the alley. A loose stone on the cobble path caught her heel, sending the distraught girl toppling down to the ground.

“Merlin’s fog watch, my heel is broken! Help!” she yelled as she tried desperately to recover her shoe frantically in the middle of the Diagon Alley moving crowds.

Option Two -
The snow had been falling steadily all morning and it didn't look like it was going to stop any time soon. Joshua Campbell scrunched his face up in a frown as he lifted his gaze to look to the sky. Snow. It really was quite a bother.

And it certainly didn't make it better that Diagon Alley seemed to be getting more and more crowded. Joshua sighed and pointed his wand at the large box that was currently placed on the doorstep of his shop. He had to get going. He had an order to deliver.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The elderly man muttered and watched the box hover in the air for a moment. Honestly, did St. Mungo's really need that much tinsel? And with glitter of all things? He sighed again. If it hadn't been for the rather convincing stamp on the order, he would have been likely to believe it had been a prank by one of those orphaned rascals living up there.

Oh well, there was no point in waiting. Joshua deftly stirred the box down the doorstep and out onto the street, carefully levitating it above the heads of the crowd.

"Coming through! Coming through!" His voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd. "Keep out! Move ahead! Go on!" This was going way too slow. People were in the way and walking like they had all day! He huffed. Luckily the road was down hill.

"Coming through! Coming th--- arrrgh!" Joshua let out a loud shout as his feet suddenly slipped in the snow and sent him, the box, and several long strands of tinsel tumbling into the person who had been walking in front of him.

"For Merlin's sake!" Joshua muttered angrily as he hurried to his feet again, red and gold tinsel now decorating his black coat. "I am so sorry! This blasted snow!" He looked apologetic at the person he had crashed into.

Roleplay Response:
The sun hung high above the horizon; golden-white beams of light permeated through the gaps of a spotted tree canopy, the trickle of leaves in the wind becoming shadow dancers on the pages of the book Viktoria had precariously balanced on the knobs of her knees. A gentle breeze whipped around the park and blades of grass carefully bent to the will of the wind as it passed over; tendrils of dark-chocolate-colored hair waved in the wind like the Soviet flag over war-torn Stalingrad. A pair of emerald green eyes peered up from a dusty tome to survey the area surrounding the Borovsky adolescent, as the scream of a child for her brother ricocheted off the trunks of oak trees through Godric Park.

Gently, two ivory hands clasped the front and rear cover of the book together, and stowed the worn novel away in the depths of a ebony bag. "YOU!" As quickly as she had been addressed, Viktoria looked up from her momentary distraction and towards the direction of the shrill-voiced child. "Me?" she inquired, her tone light as the young girl continued. "Do you want to play?" The question rolled around her mind as she seriously considered it; hadn't she come here to enjoy the simplicity and usual solidarity of Godric park? What interest did she have in playing with a mere child anyway?

Viktoria shook her head from side to side, in response. "I'm not interested in playing your games," she countered, a smile forming across her face. "I do have another idea though.." As she carefully rose from her seat against one of the many solid oaks, she used one hand to grab the bag that had been seated beside her. The feel of supple leather in her palms calmed her, even reminded her of the saddles back home; stringing it up and over her torso, she beckoned to the young girl. "Come.."

4
Archived Applications / Muse (Permit Application)
« on: 20/04/2017 at 18:01 »
SHOPKEEPER PERMIT

Shop name: Muse
Shop Type: Hotel/Underground Burlesque Night Club
Location: Knockturn Alley
Subforum? Using Gringott's Points; Ticket Submitted

Short Description (50 words max): A opulent underground burlesque night club operating under the premise of a simple hotel.
Long Description (200 words min): There is nothing special about the outside of Muse, aside from the flashy sign that decorates the small space above a black wooden door. To the common rambler, Muse is just another place for the weary to rest their heads. A blip on the map of Knockturn Alley. Like most things, however, Muse is more than meets the eye.

Upon entering the establishment, patrons will be greeted by the front desk clerk. The small foyer consists of two emerald velvet armchairs and a black wooden desk; behind the desk a large board with various keys, notes, and slots for guests' mail. On the immediate left is a small kitchenette that offers pastries and beverages for guests between seven and nine in the morning. To the right, steep wooden stairs that curl up into the second floor and play host to six rooms, another set of stairs on the second floor leads up the the third floor where the owner resides.

Each room in Muse is decorated to reflect the personal style of its owner, Viktoria Borovsky. Large black four-poster beds dressed with crisp white linens and luxurious emerald green accents are found in each room; windows are treated with flowing satin curtains reminiscent of her Slytherin days and a large chandelier illuminates the space. Each room has its own private bathroom and a private entrance into the heart of Muse, where the real fun is.

When guests are ready to indulge themselves in all Muse has to offer, they simply flourish their wand and utter the words 'primum non nocere' and a door, leading to a spiral staircase, will emerge and the festivities truly begin.

The heart of Muse is actually located beneath the foyer of the first floor; the walls have been painted black so that the acts appear to pop off the stage (some of them actually do!). In the middle of the large room, a round stage that allows viewing from a full 360-degree angle; the stage itself plays host to a variety of props and scenes. Around the stage, strategically placed tables that hold anywhere from 2-6 patrons.

Each table is lined with deep emerald linens and illuminated by clusters of candles that remain suspended in the air. In the back of the room, a full-service bar. Muse is Knockturn's best kept secret and most exclusive club; shows occur nightly and they are always looking for more talent.

What purpose will this shop serve other than selling things and being the home of your character? Why would people want to RP there just for fun?
Burlesque is a way of life. :D

Seriously though, a different venue that I have great plans for down the line.

5
Archived Applications / Borovsky, Viktoria
« on: 13/08/2015 at 16:53 »

Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name:
Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky
Виктория Юлиана Боровский

Birthday:
April 26, 1928

Hometown:
Volkgorod, Soviet Union

Bloodline:
Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one):
Charms

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Transfiguration

Year (pick two):
Sixth..& Sixth? <-or Seventh. ):

Biography:
If you are applying to be a first, second, or third year, your biography must be at least one hundred words long.
If you are applying to be a fourth year or above, your biography must be at least three hundred words long.

В экстренном случае
(In Case of Emergency)

Меня зовут Виктория Юлиана Боровский и если вы читаете this..then я мертв.
(My name is Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky and if you are reading this..then I'm dead.)

It was nineteen-thirty-eight when we absconded from Russia at the request of Grandmama. I was a scared ten-year-old child who knew nothing of the world and everything of the Mother Land; I was naive to think we would ever go back to the hallowed halls of Borovsky Castle. What I wouldn't give to go back to a time that was simpler and kinder than the one now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Grandmama speaks often, and fondly, of my birth. I think she enjoys recalling the day her favorite grandchild became a reality; I mean, it's no secret how much she adores me. I've seen the disdain in their eyes, when Vlad and Ana and Valen bear witness to the change in Grandmama when I'm around. I have, and always will be, the favorite; it's my prerogative.

When we arrived in Buckinghamshire, I remember looking at our new home with the same disdain. England would never measure up to the Mother Land; where we once had forests of dark and enchanting secrets, we now had fields and an openness that I would never grow accustom to. The happiest moment of my life in England was the day Durmstrang sent for me.

I was, no I am, a Daughter of the Blood. It was always my destiny to attend the school of my line; like my very namesake, I am of the Purest. I left behind my beloved Grandmama; her words were like ice in my veins and I knew that no matter what happened, or where I went, I would always remember. Смерть Перед бесчестия

Durmstrang had become my new home and Eastern Europe was my playground. The war had gradually started to build around us; Japan unleashed hell on America at the end of nineteen-forty-one and in nineteen-forty-two I was summoned back to the Borovsky homestead in Buckinghamshire.

It was in nineteen-forty-three that I joined Vlad and Ana at Hogwarts; the war still raging all around us and I was in the Great Hall eating at a table clad in emerald and silver. Where I had excelled at Durmstrang, I was considered behind at Hogwarts. I can still see the smug looks on Vlad and Ana's faces when they realized I was officially the same year as them.

I started writing and reading poetry to keep their images out of my mind and the longing for the Mother Land and Durmstrang from my heart. I have never felt so alone, even among family, as I do here. I'll keep my head up though, and continue to write Grandmama as she requested, because I'm a Borovsky and the favorite. It's my prerogative.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.
Note: This section is optional, and is up to you to complete.

House Request:
Slytherin

Personality:


Appearance:

→ SAMPLE ROLEPLAY.
Please reply to one of the Sample Roleplays below.

"Can I help you with something? It is not polite to stare."

“And it’s also not polite to rip up the hard work of the groundskeeper..” she replied, eyeing the boy carefully before looking at the trail of destruction he had left behind. Withdrawing her wand from the folds of her robes, she pointed it at the flowers that had begun to rustle on her right.

“Stupefy!” she commanded, hoping to stun the rat. Someone had to stop that vile creature before even more damage was caused to these flowers. Walking over a limp stem, she moved past Hugh and to the very spot she had ‘charmed’. Crouching down, she pushed some flowers back gently and prodded the stunned creature with her wand.

“He doesn't appear to be dead.” she commented lightly, before focusing back on Hugh. “You should be more careful, allergies or not.”

→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous):
Zailey Petrova, Helena Lisbeth, Peregrine White, Blondelle Chantrice, Jezebel Morgenstern, Carmine van der Berg

How did you find us?:
Other!


6
Sample Applications / Elsewhere Child: Viktoria Borovsky
« on: 30/07/2015 at 18:30 »
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:
Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky
Виктория Юлиана Боровский

Gender:
Female

Age:
Seventeen

Bloodline:
Pureblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Viktor Borovsky, Father. (Adoptable)
Anzhelina Borovsky, Mother. (Adoptable)

Residence:
Borovsky Place, Buckinghamshire, England

Do you plan to have a connection to a particular existing place (for example: the daycare)?
Hogwarts

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Just an addition to the already rampant Borovsky's!

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Zailey Petrova, Blondelle Chantrice, Helena Lisbeth, Carmine van der Berg, Pergerine White, Jezebel Morgenstern (Pending Elsewhere Adult Character)

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
В экстренном случае
(In Case of Emergency)

Меня зовут Виктория Юлиана Боровский и если вы читаете this..then я мертв.
(My name is Viktoria Yuliana Borovsky and if you are reading this..then I'm dead.)

It was nineteen-thirty-eight when we absconded from Russia at the request of Grandmama. I was a scared ten-year-old child who knew nothing of the world and everything of the Mother Land; I was naive to think we would ever go back to the hallowed halls of Borovsky Castle. What I wouldn't give to go back to a time that was simpler and kinder than the one now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Grandmama speaks often, and fondly, of my birth. I think she enjoys recalling the day her favorite grandchild became a reality; I mean, it's no secret how much she adores me. I've seen the disdain in their eyes, when Vlad and Ana and Valen bear witness to the change in Grandmama when I'm around. I have, and always will be, the favorite; it's my prerogative.

When we arrived in Buckinghamshire, I remember looking at our new home with the same disdain. England would never measure up to the Mother Land; where we once had forests of dark and enchanting secrets, we now had fields and an openness that I would never grow accustom to. The happiest moment of my life in England was the day Durmstrang sent for me.

I was, no I am, a Daughter of the Blood. It was always my destiny to attend the school of my line; like my very namesake, I am of the Purest. I left behind my beloved Grandmama; her words were like ice in my veins and I knew that no matter what happened, or where I went, I would always remember. Смерть Перед бесчестия

Durmstrang had become my new home and Eastern Europe was my playground. The war had gradually started to build around us; Japan unleashed hell on America at the end of nineteen-forty-one and in nineteen-forty-two I was summoned back to the Borovsky homestead in Buckinghamshire.

It was in nineteen-forty-three that I joined Vlad and Ana at Hogwarts; the war still raging all around us and I was in the Great Hall eating at a table clad in emerald and silver. Where I had excelled at Durmstrang, I was considered behind at Hogwarts. I can still see the smug looks on Vlad and Ana's faces when they realized I was officially the same year as them.

I started writing and reading poetry to keep their images out of my mind and the longing for the Mother Land and Durmstrang from my heart. I have never felt so alone, even among family, as I do here. I'll keep my head up though, and continue to write Grandmama as she requested, because I'm a Borovsky and the favorite. It's my prerogative.

Roleplay:
Reply as your character to the following:

Godric Park.

Overhead, the sky was a crisp blue, for once clear of the ever-pervasive spongy clouds and rain. The sun was a lemony-yellow presence, high in the Eastern sky, and in front of it zipped three broomsticks in a straight line, or something very like one. One... two..... three... the boys passed, their shouts of excitement echoing as they chased the snitch, a tiny shimmer reflecting the sunlight.

Far below was another, much smaller broomstick.

It trugged along the ground, hugging close to it like a sluggish choo choo train and occasionally shuttering in protest. This was because said stick was currently being occupied by a very small girl who was tugging upward on the front of it with all her might, trying to coax it into doing what it had been expressly designed NOT to do.

"John, I said wait up!" The tiny girl squealed, giving the broomstick another tug.

Begrudgingly, it drifted upward a foot, and then sank, depositing the troublesome girl safely on the ground. Janey Hurst was not pleased. In a huff, she hopped off the toy safety broom, grabbing it firmly and thrusting it handle first into the turf.

Her brother was such a beast. He NEVER let her play! She folded her arms, seething blue eyes fixing on another figure nearby.  "You!" She barked, much more sharply than she meant to.

"...Do you want to play?"

Roleplay Response:
The sun hung high above the horizon; golden-white beams of light permeated through the gaps of a spotted tree canopy, the trickle of leaves in the wind becoming shadow dancers on the pages of the book Viktoria had precariously balanced on the knobs of her knees. A gentle breeze whipped around the park and blades of grass carefully bent to the will of the wind as it passed over; tendrils of dark-chocolate-colored hair waved in the wind like the Soviet flag over war-torn Stalingrad. A pair of emerald green eyes peered up from a dusty tome to survey the area surrounding the Borovsky adolescent, as the scream of a child for her brother ricocheted off the trunks of oak trees through Godric Park.

Gently, two ivory hands clasped the front and rear cover of the book together, and stowed the worn novel away in the depths of a ebony bag. "YOU!" As quickly as she had been addressed, Viktoria looked up from her momentary distraction and towards the direction of the shrill-voiced child. "Me?" she inquired, her tone light as the young girl continued. "Do you want to play?" The question rolled around her mind as she seriously considered it; hadn't she come here to enjoy the simplicity and usual solidarity of Godric park? What interest did she have in playing with a mere child anyway?

Viktoria shook her head from side to side, in response. "I'm not interested in playing your games," she countered, a smile forming across her face. "I do have another idea though.." As she carefully rose from her seat against one of the many solid oaks, she used one hand to grab the bag that had been seated beside her. The feel of supple leather in her palms calmed her, even reminded her of the saddles back home; stringing it up and over her torso, she beckoned to the young girl. "Come.."

OTHER
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