We are currently accepting new applications for Elsewhere!

Author Topic: Aleksandra Mariella Borovsky  (Read 828 times)

Aleksandra Borovsky

    (20/06/2013 at 19:00)
  • *
  • C4D4T3S5
  • Poppy - Most Imaginative
    • View Profile
E L S E W H E R E   C H I L D

CHARACTER INFORMATION
Character Name:
Aleksandra Mariella Borovsky. Named after her mother but only replies to Mariella and classes that as her first name.

Gender:
Female

Age:
8. Born, April 20, 1931

Bloodline:
Pureblood

Parents/Guardians (Are they currently played characters?): 
Aleksandra Borovsky; mother, Maxim Borovsky; father both deceased. Luka Borovsky; brother and Raina Borovsky; grandmother who are her guardians. All NPC.

Residence:
9, The Boltons, South Kensington.

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

Do you wish to be approved as a group with any other characters? If so who and for what IC reason?
Nope.

Please list any other characters you already have at the site:
Ember Harlow, Sarah Ann Darcy and the rest of the crew.

Biography: (100 words minimum.)
A door slammed in the close distance and her body visibly tensed. Her breathing stilled, chest barely moving as her lungs struggled to take in their vital capacity of air.

"Aleksandra?"

She made no response, the small quill continuing to write fervently.

"Aleksandra, where are you?"

Downcast eyes hardened at every word, every breath of the newcomer. An audible sigh came from down the hallway which was followed by a groan, too loud for her liking and the grip on her quill tightened.

"Fine. Mariella, could you just answer me?"

A satisfied smile as she sat up, back straightening from its previously hunched over, rounded position.

"I'm in the bedroom, Luka." She replied deadpan, wiping the blob of ink that had formed on the nib of her pen on the back of her hand.

Sounds of footsteps grew louder with each second and her smile fell as the door swung open.

"What are you doing? Greta has been worried sick."

His voice was inquisitive but she remained as she was, legs crossed as she faced the wall with her back towards the door and her brother.

"Talking to the wall. He's great at keeping secrets."

Hazel eyes flashed with amusement before she felt his form looming over her and they widened instead, hand quickly darting out to snatch up the diary before he saw it. Fingers brushed the bind as Luka took it in his palm, fingers enclosing it in his grasp.

"You're not even meant to be he-" She'd begun before his stern voice overpowered her.

"What have I told you about this Aleksandra? You need to stop. You should be grateful that Grandmother was willing to take us in, especially since you know very well that she never got along with mother." He took in a deep breath and she could tell his nostrils ad flared like they always did when he was angry.

Her jaw tensed, eyes refusing to look up at her brother.

"I never asked her to take m-"

"Well she did, and you better start showing her some respect Aleksandra. Mother and father raised you better than this, or at least I had thought they did."

She reached for the book but he raised it out of her reach and she released a shaky breath. Turning back away from him, she sat down harshly onto the frayed carpet.

"My name is Mariella." the tone was composed yet demanding, "Don't call me that name again."

That was her mothers name, not hers, and she refused to be called by it. It was as if she was still alive when people said it and it brought a gaping hole to her stomach and bile to her throat, sometimes even saltness pricking her eyes.

"How did you get here? Your lady's maid owled me at work to tell me you'd disappeared after luncheon prayers."

Her cheeks were sucked in, becoming hollowed before she released them after a few moments with a pop.

"Albert."

"The chauffer?" His voice raised another octave and her left eyebrow lowered, her eye closing slightly as she winced. "I can't believe-, get up. Get up right now, I'm taking you back myself. This cannot keep happening, I won't allow it."

He moved towards her, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her off the floor and she rose obediently, body like a rag doll.

"Look, I know this is hard on you, it's hard on both of us. But it's been 2 years Leksa, it's time to move on." His grip on her arm relaxed and he stroked it lovingly You know I love you." She shrugged away his hand and he frowned at her.

Bored hazel eyes blinked back, but no words came from her mouth and after a few moments of tense silence she was pulled from the room and out towards the car.

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:
She doubted she'd ever quite get used to the difference in temperature.

Church had finished 20 minutes ago which left her free from the stuffy confines of the hall and the stale sweaty smell that came with masses of people, kneeling, mumbling prayers and sitting in silence in the sweltering heat in their Sunday best.

The doors and windows were sealed shut, candles flickering from the breath of whispered pleas for forgiveness instead of spring winds scented with flowers from outside. Back in Moscow the winters lasted until late April. Often she expected to wake up to layers of snow, piles upon piles blocking pathways and both entrances and exits.

But that never happened.

Life in Moscow was now only a wistful dream and her life had somehow taken a sharp detour into a nightmare. Her Grandmother watching her through scornful eyes. Her mahogany walking stick bashing at her shoulders blades to remind her to stand straight, at her legs to remind her to keep them together and her wrinkled hand clasped her arm when she spoke out of turn.

She was a child of God and she was to act as such at all times.

The rays of shone trickled over her face and down her neck onto the newly exposed skin produced as she brushed her short hair behind her ears. The fresh greenness of the grass was still rather shocking to her eyes, so unusual and out of place. She let her eyes fall shut, her nose exhaling the scent of spring and taking her back to her homeland. Every step was met with a cool wetness of snow that was conjured from her own mind and she smile lightly as she felt snowflakes land gracefully in her lashes.

"You!"

The sharp noise broke the facade.

Hazel eyes opened, being met with nothing but sunshine and newly cut grass littered with daisies, but no snow.

"Yes?" She replied quietly, yet curtly, a few steps taken towards the young girl.

"...Do you want to play?"

She turned, taking in the sight of her grandmother bartering for apples at the market. She'd be baking another apple pie, she knew, it was always like clockwork. Old people needed that she supposed, routine, lest they forgot in the excitement of doing something new.

Another few steps closer, her tone hushed.

"That all depends on what you wish to play."


OTHER
How did you find us? Google a long time agooo.

Arianrhod Medraut

    (20/06/2013 at 21:34)
Accepted!

Tags: