Welcome to Hogwarts School :: A Harry Potter RPG! It's 1957!

Posts

This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.


Messages - Aleksandra Borovsky

Pages: [1]
1
Archived Applications / Aleksandra Borovsky
« on: 16/04/2015 at 22:04 »

Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Aleksandra Mariella Borovsky

Birthday: February 24, 1930

Hometown: Volkgorod, North of Russia

Bloodline: The purest of blood.

Magical Strength (pick one): Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one): Transfiguration

Year (pick two): Fourth, Third.

Biography:

Being invisible was a feat that she’d always been rather gifted at. Back in Mother Russia, she’d had a particular proclivity for lurking in the shadows, out of sight (and very often out of mind) of her numerous family members. Sometimes it was as if she were spoiled goods, tainted even, ever since the tragedy of her parents. Something that seemingly only got worse once Luka was ostracised from the family by Grandmama. The elderly woman had been low down on Aleksandra’s list of people she favoured, and that had been the last straw. The bitter old witch had spat out many terrible things about her brother to anyone with an ear to listen, (and even Aunt Darya who had lost her ear in a freak accident as a child), as if she was trying to justify her actions to herself rather than anyone else. Luka was not a bad man, he was her brother and she loved him.

But it seemed that everything she loved suffered a terrible fate.

She had spent her third year of Hogwarts mostly alone. Aleksandra more frequently found herself awake in the hours set aside for sleeping and resting weary heads than in the sunlight that basked the great Castle in such a wondrous glow. Her limited amount of friends had stayed limited as she’d forgone her attempts at making friends. If people didn’t want to be friends with her, then she didn’t want to be friends with them. Her cousins, Beatrix and Waldo were plenty people for her. Not to mention her doll Anya who she still whispered to from time to time when Ana wasn’t around.
 
Though while those around her were, day by day, moving on with their lives Aleksandra felt stagnant. Stuck at the same position in her life where everything had gone wrong. And though she’d tried, she couldn’t seem to put her torturous thoughts to rest. Bloody thoughts of her Mama and Papa; the screams, the smoke, the heat, and the flames. Without answers to her many questions, that chapter of the book couldn’t be completed and her hands refused to set it down, closed. She needed closure, closure she had still after all these many years not received.

The anger, fear, and unsurety bubbled away just below the surface unsettling her once pleasant disposition. It continued to eat away at her, as it preyed on the very little energy her body had, and yet she forced herself to suppress it. For there was nothing she could do and there was nothing Ana could do (nor any of her other cousins). While she was beyond certain her Uncle Nikolai was behind the entire plot, who would believe a 14 year old girl. Especially against someone as evil and cunning as her Uncle. She’d seen first hand what he was capable of many times, and Grandmama already believe her crazy for her first outburst about it.

Perhaps, she occasionally thought in her darker, more obscene and silly moments, she should take matters into her own hand. With Ana’s help, perhaps they could take justice into their own hands. What with Borovsky blood, it couldn’t be so hard, could it?

Though those thoughts were quickly pushed away into the depths of her mind when she finally got a hold of herself. Shook herself out of her moment of insanity, clutching for her rosary beads and pocket bible. This was not the way she had been brought up by Mama and Papa, and not by Grandmama and Greta neither. She was a child of God, who believed in piety, grace and most of all peace.

Justice was not worth an everlasting place in Hell.

The beginning of the summer holidays had left her battling with her demons incessantly. Attempting to keep herself on the straight and narrow, fighting with her thoughts and her faith. She was fast becoming a young lady now and that came with responsibilities, most importantly, no more childish acts. No more being the Aleksandra that she once was, she needed to be a new stronger, better Aleksandra.

And this year, she’d strive to be just that.

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION.

While Aleksandra was previously viewed as a quieter and less dark member of the Borovsky clan, she is simply a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. Everything in her past and present, while seemingly not affecting her, is bubbling away just waiting for the right stimulus from her ever changing and unstable environment to cause her to pop, something that will end drastically. Due to these issues her personality is seemingly split down the middle between the sweet girl she once was, and a manifestation of everything going on inside her mind which occasionally causes her to snap and become someone else that she isn’t sure she quite likes.

Her faith is still highly important to her and something she dedicates a great deal of time to, more so now than she did before in the hope that God will be able to save her soul from her wicked thoughts.

House Request: Ravenclaw

Personality:

A once misunderstood, yet vivacious young girl Aleksandra is slowly coming more and more out of her shell. Though she’s not entirely sure that she likes what is being revealed. She strives to be just like her older cousin Viktoria, the perfect young lady in her Grandmama’s eyes who has all the qualities she could hope to possess. Poised, elegant, pretty, and always well-behaved at church. Aleksandra hopes to be just like her, though is constantly struggling on the path towards becoming who she wishes to be. She frequently worries about how she will turn out.

Although troubled, she is very loyal to her family and small number of friends. Also, while seemingly set in her ways after some persuasion she can usually find interest in others point of views, especially ones that challenge the view she was brought up with. Shes very interested in learning new things, and due to spending so much time following Ana around she has taken a recent interest in the Dark Arts that her cousin enjoys divulging in.

Appearance:

Aleksandra is petitely built. Small in height and also very slim just like her mother. People have said she looks almost exactly like she did when she was her age. She has the same features that all members of her family have and are known for. Dark brown hair and fair skin as well as thick, harsh, eyebrows and deep hazel eyes with flecks of green when hit with sunlight.

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

Reply to Option I.

Of course she’d watched the Quidditch. Every time she gathered excitedly in Ravenclaw stands to await the sight of her cousin Ana to walk out onto the pitch. Watched how she would take her broom between her hands and glide through the air with the quaffle tugged snug under her arm. Tossing and passing, this way and that. Aleksandra liked it when that quaffle would soar through one of the opposing teams hoop and she’d throw her arms up into the air with joy at yet more points for Ravenclaw, cheering and hollaring. The whole of the stands would erupt, banners and scarves (in the colder seasons) waved erratically to celebrate their team and their players.

And in these moments she never stopped to think about how the other team felt. How that Keeper must beat themselves up relentlessly about if only they were a bit more to the right, that one wouldn’t have gone in.

She’d held back after the game in order to celebrate the victory with Ana after she’d changed out of her kit and cleaned up a little. It had been a long match and it was a warm day meaning that many the players had sweat and the smell of exercise thick on them. Aleksa thought briefly about how glad she was that her cousin had washed as she moved to throw her arms around her in a tight embrace.

Aleksa practically skipped back to the castle, reciting to Ana all the parts of the game that she had enjoyed the most, and what she had cheered just each time Ravenclaw had scored, and about this one boy that had gotten so excited that he had fallen off the seat he was stood on.

“Look.” She whispered, though not all too quietly that the boy was unable to hear as she saw the Keeper from the opposite team skulking in the hallways. “Look who it is!”

“WHAT! Haven’t you ever seen a loser before? Why don’t you just take a picture!”

Aleksa’s eyes widened a fraction, a crease forming on her forehead that disappeared as quickly as it came. The boy was red faced, and appeared to be almost shaking in his stance as he looked down at her from where he stood at the foot of the stair. Hazel eyes bored back up at him, with something akin to confusion within them.

It was just all a game to her and she hadn’t realised just how great a deal it meant to some people at Hogwarts whether they won or lost.

“A picture?” She asked questioningly, her head moving to tilt to the right. “And what would I do with that?” Her head then turned to face her cousin as if the older girl would have the answers. “Ana, why does he want me to take a picture?

→ ABOUT YOU.

Please list any characters you have on the site (current and previous): Ember Harlow, Sarah Ann Darcy, Florence Darcy etc (signing up again because I didn’t say I was returning last term).

How did you find us?: Google so many years ago.

2
Archived Applications / Aleksandra Borovsky
« on: 31/03/2014 at 23:38 »

Application for Hogwarts School




→ CHARACTER INFORMATION.
Name: Aleksandra Mariella Borovsky. She dislikes the name Aleksandra due to it being the same as her deceased mother so prefers to be called Mariella. People usually still refer to her as Aleksandra though.

Birthday: June, 20 1930

Hometown: Volkgorod, Russia. Though now resides in London, England with her Grandmother.

Bloodline:
Pureblood

Magical Strength (pick one):
Conjuring & Summoning

Magical Weakness (pick one):
Divination

Year (pick two):
First or second year.

Biography:
January 12, 1938
Russia.

Luka says Mamma and Pa have gone. 'Gone where?' I asked. That was when he'd started sniffing, shoulders quaking like they did when people cried. But Luka was a man and men never cried. I placed a hand on him, a comforting one, like Mamma and Pa did to me when I was upset.

That made him cry more.

'Gone where, Luka?' I asked again. This time he answered.

'Heaven Leksa, heaven.'



January 15, 1938
Russia.

Sometimes I dream about it.

The smoke, thick and black. Filling up my lungs. And then it's sticky like treacle on pancakes, hard to breathe. I open my mouth to scream and I can't. It makes me cry.

Someone saves me, but I don't know who.

My eyes are too heavy by then, I can't see anything.



January 18, 1938
Russia.

Today was Mamma and Pa's funeral.

We said prayers and sang hymns to God so that he would keep them safe. Everyone was in black and crying. I cried too.

When I die, I want everyone to wear pink. It's much happier than black.



January 20, 1938
Russia.

Aunt Veronika says we are to live with Grandmama in England.

I've never lived anywhere but Russia, I like Russia.

I'm scared.



January 24, 1938
England.

Grandmama is mean. We arrived in London on a large train with Greta, our nanny, and our cases. Lots of cases, more than I could carry. A car came to collect us and we drove all the way to Grandmama's Manor in London.

The Manor was huge, bigger than our Manor in Russia.

Or what was our Manor.

It wasn't there anymore.



February 10, 1938.
England.

Luka moved out.

Grandmama and he got angry and shouted. Lots of shouting and banging and Luka said some naughty words so he had to leave.

I miss him.


January 1939.

Aleksandra stopped flicking through her small bound diary, placing it beside her on the large bed that was the grand feature of the room. Everything was bare, unpersonalised and the majority of her belongings still remained in her trunks.

She didn't want to unpack.

This wasn't her home and to her unpacking properly would be like accepting that it was.

It was a nice room, the theme of gold and rich cream prevalent in the decor chosen. Thick expensive curtains, most likely hand stitched, with golden rope ties. Polished pale wooden floors, crisp cream coloured drawers, wardrobes and make up tables painted with golden figures.

It was all so ornate, so pretty.

She'd unpacked her clothes, Greta had made her do that. And moved a few of the books she read more frequently onto the book shelf, but only for convenience she'd told herself. Not because she was settling in.

This was not her home, her home was back in Russia with Mamma and Pa.

"Aleksandra, would you please come out of your room. This is the last time I will ask politely."

She ignored the call from the other side of the door, lying flat on her bed, head shoved under her pillow.

God was supposed to watch over his children, why hadn't he been watching over them?

It was a thought she didn't like to think about.

Or what if he had been?

That was one she disliked even more.



October 1939.

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 nearly 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.



June 1940.

Usually her birthday was a happy time and it had been back in Russia. It had been an extravagant occasion with members of the family from all over Russia, England, Italy (and the many other places they'd spread out over the world) coming to celebrate.

Mamma always took her out personally for her to get a special dress and shoes before taking her to get her hair done by professionals. It had made her feel grown up, like a proper young lady.

But none of that was happening today.

No party. No music. No food or drink or guests and probably even presents.

Leksa had been too stubborn to even go downstairs. Last year Greta had tried but she'd simply gone to bed without dinner or even cake instead.

A knock at the door caused her to groan from where she sat in her nightdress on her chaise, fiddling with a jigsaw.

"Aleksandra. May I come in?"

Silence on her side of the door as she slotted the piece into place.

The door opened anyway and in came Greta with a large wrapped box with a couple of smaller ones balanced on top. She was followed by one of the staff that held balloons decorated with the age 10 and an exclamation mark, glittery and pink. The next held a small cake with the perfect number of candles.

This wasn't their job. This was Mamma and Pa's job, Leksa thought stubbornly with a hint of misery.

"Happy birthday Aleksandra." They chimed and hazel eyes flittered up filled with distaste.

"I don't want it." She mumbled quietly, but not quietly enough since Greta's face turned stony almost immediately.

"Do not be so ungrateful, we have spent a great deal of time on this and-"

"I said I don't want it!" Leksa screamed before throwing her jigsaw across the room and storming out passed the three woman, tears threatening to spill from eyes.

How could they carry on like people weren't missing? Like Mamma and Pa weren't missing.



April 1941.

"Amen." The table chimed as the room erupted in shuffling, cutlery clacking against one another and the quiet bubble of chatter began.

"Well, I do believe this to be quite the Easter feast in celebration of our Lord's resurrection." Grandmama spoke and of course everyone listened. "Do enjoy."

The staff began to circle the table, serving food to person after person.

Leksa sat next to her cousin Stassie, her doll Anya on her lap as they chatted about the pretty Easter pictures they had drawn at church.

Things were a little easier now. She had come to accept that she wouldn't be going home. Not now and not ever. Things happened and life changed but it still went on and that meant that she had to move on too.

Or at least try to.

"When I come to Hogwarts Stassie, can I be in a room with you?"

Her cousin shrugged, devouring the chicken on her plate that was dripping with rich gravy.

Leksa took that as a yes. Satisfied with her answer she picked up her fork and stabbed into one of her roast potatoes.

Hogwarts was the next great big adventure, and she couldn't wait to go.



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

House Request:
No request personally, though Aleksandra would most likely wish to be with her cousin Anastasia in Ravenclaw.

Personality:
While Aleksandra likes to believe she's your typical well-raised Pureblood girl, she isn't quite. She likes dresses and lace and sparkles and pink, dressing up and looking presentable. But theres a slightly more menacing side to her. One that lies more frequently than it should, so expertly that it sometimes even appears she believes them. Occasionally her fingers touch upon things that don't belong to her, instantly claiming them as her own. But she doesn't mean to, after all, she knows God is always watching and she'd never do anything to displease him.

Appearance:
A girl of average height with a petite build. Her skin is milky, giving a drastic contrast between it and her dark brown waves of hair that fall just to her shoulders. She likes them curled as she believes she looks more elegant and ladylike. Her eyes are a deep hazel colour, occasionally appearing to having brown flecks. They're like deep pools, intense and enticing especially when she stares which she does so frequently whilst trying to figure people out. Her teeth are slightly crooked giving her a quirky smile though she doesn't show them very often.

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

Option 2:

“Oh, come now!"

Astrid Bixby’s voice carried down the corridor, the tall blonde girl not far behind. Her interviewee – or victim, depending on perspective – turned a corner and she frowned. They were always so elusive when she needed them. Sure, they would talk as if there was no tomorrow during class, but once she actually needed them to say something, they were nowhere to be found. Gryffindors.

Flustered, Astrid stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared, her parchment hanging limply from her hand. She was a good reporter, really, and she always did her best to make sure that everything she wrote was accurate. She glanced down to the quill, eyeing it with disdain. It wasn’t her fault if her quill misquoted. How was she supposed to know? It made for interesting articles, at least, and if she had misquoted the Head Boy last term as saying he had a love for stuffed animals, then that gave him personality. Astrid sighed.

A pout formed on her lips as she turned away, discouraged. The corridor was mercifully empty, though the doors to The Spellbound – the school newspaper – were ominously closed. Corbridge was a mercifully sweet editor, but Astrid was terrified of disappointing her all the same. She hadto come back with quotes.
Her eyes, blue, trailed her surroundings before choosing a new path, and she turned down a new corridor. A figure was ahead, and her eyes lit up, an impossibly rosy smile blossoming across her lips.

“Hey!” Astrid called, her voice light and singsong. She trotted to catch the person, her shoes clicking on the stone floor. “Wait up! It’s for the paper!” Her legs aided her admittedly poor running, and Astrid gasped as she came closer. “What do you think about serving frog legs at lunch? Some say it’s a delicacy, but others think it’s plain gross.”




Anya was tucked into the inside pocket of her cloak that she'd stitched in, quietly quietly, by the faint light of her wand while the other students in her dorm slept. Stassie may have mutilated her little friend at Camp but that didn't stop her from still tugging the headless doll around.

Anya was her friend and they'd learnt sign language.

“Oh, come now!"

Her shoulders hunched suddenly at the sound bouncing off the walls of the corridor, chasing her to her destination.

Perfectly polished shoes kept in formation. Left. Right. Left. Right. No stopping because she was already late and she couldn't keep her guest waiting much longer. Not after they'd agreed to meet at such short notice.

“Hey!”

Her speed increased. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

“Wait up! It’s for the paper!”

The paper?

Leksa's steps halted in thought, her eyes focused on one fixed point on the wall. She'd read Spellbound and she'd enjoyed it, a lot. Imagine... imagine how impressed people would be if she were to be in it!

A murmur of pleasure rippled through her, a faint impish grin gracing her face.

“What do you think about serving frog legs at lunch? Some say it’s a delicacy, but others think it’s plain gross.”

Her feet turned quickly to face the girl. Eyes coming face to face with her chest. Tall... older student. Hazel orbs flickered up to catch the girls own.

"Frogs are one of God's creatures." She muttered after a large uncomfortable pause."Who gives you the right to choose when they die?"


→ ABOUT YOU.

Previous Characters (if applicable):
Sarah Ann Darcy, Ember Harlow, Elisamarie Audley etc.
How did you find us?: Witchy powers!

3
Character Classifieds / Borovsky Family
« on: 12/10/2013 at 15:56 »


HOUSE OF BOROVSKY
дом из Боровский




RAINA BOROVSKY
Grandmother Borovsky is an extremely strict catholic woman who believes in Russian traditions. As well as being an elitist, she has had two children. Unfortunately the youngest - Maxim - died along with his wife who she highly disapproved of. She is the legal guardian of their two children but highly favours her other son - Viktor - and his family.

LUKA BOROVSKY
Luka no longer lives with his grandmother but instead in the city where he works, however he still attempts to be the man of the house and acts more like a father to his younger sister than a brother. He is very work-orientated and ambitious but unfortunately has a gambling addiction that he tries to keep hidden from the family.

ALEKSANDRA BOROVSKY - TAKEN!
Aleksandra is just 8 years old and lives with her grandmother in South Kensington. She does not at all acknowledge her parents death and continued to pretend that they are still alive. She answers only to her middle name Mariella due to being named after her mother and she loves horseriding. She also has a doll named Anya that she takes everywhere.



VIKTOR BOROVSKY
Viktor like the rest of his family is a catholic elitist. He was employed by the Ministry of Magic in Russia as spy before migrating to Britain at his mother's request. He is happily married with three children, Anastasia being his favourite despite his mother's hatred for her. He is strict, chivalrous and incredibly dead-pan. The family currently live in Buckinghamshire.

ANDREINA BOROVSKY
Andreina {nee. Ignatov} is a stay at home mother. She is an intelligent woman with a passion for poetry and as well as this she is compassionate, sociable and quite beautiful. Each of her three children are adored greatly by her and she also does her best to support her niece, Aleksandra. In her free time she holds a book club for women, attends social events and plays the harp.

VIKTORIA BOROVSKY
Viktoria is the oldest of the three children - sixteen - and named after her father. She previously attended Durmstrang but was withdrawn due to moving to Britain. She is a favourite in the family due to her submissiveness and need to impress others. She believes in order and rules and looks up to her grandmother more than anybody. In her free time she likes shopping and gossiping.

VLADIMIR BOROVSKY
Vladimir is the twin brother of Anastasia, aged just ten years old. He is very protective of his twin and often takes the blame for things she does and is therefore known as the rebel of the family. He is comical, mischievous and very energetic but is however terrified of his grandmother. In his free time he likes to explore with his sister and play tricks on the elves.

ANASTASIA BOROVSKY - TAKEN!
Anastasia is the youngest of the three, born just a minute after her twin brother. She is mysterious little thing, very innocent and curious about the world around her and because of this she often gets herself into trouble. Ana also has a year old kitten named Boris who she thinks she can talk to and in her free time she likes to sing and paint. 



If you wish to join the family as one of these characters, contact Sarah Ann Darcy with the character name. If you would like to join the family with a different character, you must contact Sarah Ann Darcy with the name, face claim and how they are related to the Grandmother who is the family head. Please note, the family trademark is dark hair and green eyes.

4
Character Classifieds / Re: Come Play With Me!
« on: 25/07/2013 at 18:19 »
I'm way ahead of you ;)

Leksa is willing to be friends/enemies! She's 8, I think .. not really done much with her haha. Just made her for when Sarah is booted out of Hogwarts and into the real world after graduation!

<3

5
Elsewhere Accepted / Aleksandra Mariella Borovsky
« on: 20/06/2013 at 19:00 »
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.

Pages: [1]