Post by Anya Braginskaya on May 16, 2011 14:14:40 GMT -5
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Anastasia Braginksya~
name: Anastasia “Anya” Ivanova Braginskaya
origination: Rossiyskaya Federatsiya, Russian Federation
age: 16
grade:Sophmore
social class: Middle-class
positive traits:
negative traits:
likes:
-Brightly colored flowers
-Pastel colors
- Matryoshka dolls
-Singing
-Good vodka
-Russian tea cakes
-Painting/drawing
-Making friends
- Sewing/knitting/embroidery
-Getting a rise out of people
dislikes:
-Dead/dying flowers
-People making fun of her accent
-People pointing out her rather... generous bust size
-People leaving her
-Extreme cold/ice
-Dull colors (brown, gray, black)[/list]
history : In another reality, Anastasia would have been brought up as the noble daughter of one of the Red Army’s most feared and renowned Generals, however with the fall of the Soviet Union came the fall of what upper-class life she could have had. Despite the lost wealth Anya has grown up a cheerful and bright young woman; the type who spent her nights sewing by the fireplace with her mother and the mornings helping her father gather firewood. One evening her father suddenly declared that the public school system in Russia weren’t good enough for his daughter, and that he had sent in an application to a prestigious academy in England. While Anya was ecstatic at the prospect of seeing an entirely new country, she knew very well that their father was more than likely using her in order to gain back some of the respect that he had lost; trying to live again through his daughter, so to speak. Regardless of this knowledge Anya didn’t mind, always being eager to see the world outside the glossy pages of the books that she had read.
sample post:
Anya knelt down and gathered a handful of snow in her gloved hands, bringing the soft powder to her lips and inhaling happily. Something about the way snow smelt always called her down, and the cool moisture against her lips felt much better than any lip balm or gloss ever could. Anya stood and tossed the snow into the air, watching with a wide smile as the tiny frozen crystals fluttered to the ground, the sun making some of them sparkle as they resettled on the earth. The champagne-blonde young woman laced her fingers behind her back and strode forward in what was very likely six inches of snow. She didn’t mind that clumps of snow where getting in her boots, something as trivial as that was something one expected to happen when living in the snow-covered north.
On the topic of snow, there was another thing Anya was happy about: the fact that her family didn’t live in a big, busy city like St. Petersburg or Moscow. No, Anya had spent her pleasant sixteen-year existence in Kashin. And she couldn’t have been happier. So many tall buildings would just obstruct the Motherland’s natural beauty. Besides Anya wasn’t one for large crowds of people anyway, they were much too loud for her personal tastes. Sometime during her walk, Anya had spun around with all the grace of a Russian dancer (it wasn’t hard to navigate through snow as some people made it seem. It was really a matter of just walking forward like you would on normal ground; thinking about the snow made it that much harder to walk in.), and continued on her way.
Her smile only widened when she felt a tiny little snowflake drift down from the sky and land on her nose, making the Russian giggle at the sensation and tilt her head up to watch the snow fall that was growing steadier the more time passed. A tiny, barely-there frown tugged on the corner of Anya’s lips when she regretted not bringing a camera with her; she would have lover to preserve how the sky looked at that moment forever: light gray clouds starting to drift in, lined in a brilliant light as the sun tried valiantly to regain domination of the sky, the contrasting colors of gray against the patches of golden-pink as twilight came closer and closer. Such a lovely sight.
On the topic of snow, there was another thing Anya was happy about: the fact that her family didn’t live in a big, busy city like St. Petersburg or Moscow. No, Anya had spent her pleasant sixteen-year existence in Kashin. And she couldn’t have been happier. So many tall buildings would just obstruct the Motherland’s natural beauty. Besides Anya wasn’t one for large crowds of people anyway, they were much too loud for her personal tastes. Sometime during her walk, Anya had spun around with all the grace of a Russian dancer (it wasn’t hard to navigate through snow as some people made it seem. It was really a matter of just walking forward like you would on normal ground; thinking about the snow made it that much harder to walk in.), and continued on her way.
Her smile only widened when she felt a tiny little snowflake drift down from the sky and land on her nose, making the Russian giggle at the sensation and tilt her head up to watch the snow fall that was growing steadier the more time passed. A tiny, barely-there frown tugged on the corner of Anya’s lips when she regretted not bringing a camera with her; she would have lover to preserve how the sky looked at that moment forever: light gray clouds starting to drift in, lined in a brilliant light as the sun tried valiantly to regain domination of the sky, the contrasting colors of gray against the patches of golden-pink as twilight came closer and closer. Such a lovely sight.
Hi my name is SunflowerinSnow and i'm nineteen years old! I have been roleplaying since 2003 and I can't wait to join this roleplay! I also play Denmark, Sweden, Prussia, Bealrus, Hungary and Austria and I will try to be awesomely active here. Oh! And The cake is not a lie !
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