(no subject)
Claim: Anya
Themes: Endings, Stars, Music, Kitchen Boy (AC1), Young Man (AC2)
Completed: 15/30
Endings
In the days after the ruined tercentennial celebrations, the Romanov family lived in fear. Nicholas and Alexandra tried to hide it from their children, but it was clear that worry penetrated the walls of the Catherine Palace. Anastasia lay awake every night waiting anxiously for Rasputin’s curse to manifest itself, listening to her parents’ hushed, fearful voices. It was no secret that behind the glamour of Russia lay discontent. The perceptive eight-year-old knew what it meant; even if there was no curse, their way of life was ending soon, and she had no idea what her future truly held anymore.
Stars
The sky was clear tonight, a strange occurrence for a Russian winter. The constellations glittered, faint illuminations over the fresh snow. Anya watched them from the second-story window, her breath fogging the glass.
The stars never change, she thought absently. The world shifts, but they stay the same. Not like her life. She had already gone through some drastic change, if only she could remember; hopefully her life would change again, for the better this time. But not until I turn eighteen. Until then, I’m trapped here.
Those same stars are shining over Paris tonight…shining over my family. I hope.
Music
The transformation was…extraordinary. Gone was the scruffy hair, the ragged dress, the fiery demeanour. Her hair - longer than he imagined - was gently tamed into a tumble of curls secured by a ribbon; she’d altered the dress to fit, subtly accenting her body. She looked beautiful, radiant…and somehow vulnerable.
He was acutely aware of his hand on her waist, her fingers resting lightly on his. Her face was close, those huge eyes full of some unreadable, powerful emotion, her lips slightly parted. There was no music, but they moved smoothly as one, dancing to some silent rhythm only they could hear.
Kitchen Boy (AC1)
She’d seen him before, scurrying about the palace on one errand or another with a furtive, sneaky look. He was funny, with his long floppy hair and features that seemed just a little too big for his angular face. She’d heard his name spoken, but never could remember it; she’d been brought up to ignore the servants. Still, he caught her with a strange kind of interest, casting longing glances into the ballrooms as the aristocracy celebrated. She wondered at his past sometimes, but never long enough for it to matter much. He was only a kitchen boy, after all.
Young Man (AC1)
He looks familiar, she thought suddenly as the young man whispered with his friend. She couldn’t imagine how she knew him, but that artfully mussed hair, and those dark eyes…
“Are you Dimitri?” she asked, hiding her confusion behind exasperation.
“Perhaps,” he responded cryptically. “That all depends on who’s looking for him.”
Just a nameless nobody. “My name is Anya. I need travel papers.” She leaned in conspiratorially to whisper; he did the same, his bangs falling across his forehead. Familiarity twinged again…but it was as if a wall had appeared in her mind. There was nothing there to remember.
By the way, I was looking at screenshots for the dancing scene, because I wanted to make sure I described it right, and I noticed that Anya has an impossibly small waist. You can see it again in the purple-blue dress she wears to the ballet. She appears to have the same measurements as a Barbie; either that, or she's got a corset on.
Themes: Endings, Stars, Music, Kitchen Boy (AC1), Young Man (AC2)
Completed: 15/30
Endings
In the days after the ruined tercentennial celebrations, the Romanov family lived in fear. Nicholas and Alexandra tried to hide it from their children, but it was clear that worry penetrated the walls of the Catherine Palace. Anastasia lay awake every night waiting anxiously for Rasputin’s curse to manifest itself, listening to her parents’ hushed, fearful voices. It was no secret that behind the glamour of Russia lay discontent. The perceptive eight-year-old knew what it meant; even if there was no curse, their way of life was ending soon, and she had no idea what her future truly held anymore.
Stars
The sky was clear tonight, a strange occurrence for a Russian winter. The constellations glittered, faint illuminations over the fresh snow. Anya watched them from the second-story window, her breath fogging the glass.
The stars never change, she thought absently. The world shifts, but they stay the same. Not like her life. She had already gone through some drastic change, if only she could remember; hopefully her life would change again, for the better this time. But not until I turn eighteen. Until then, I’m trapped here.
Those same stars are shining over Paris tonight…shining over my family. I hope.
Music
The transformation was…extraordinary. Gone was the scruffy hair, the ragged dress, the fiery demeanour. Her hair - longer than he imagined - was gently tamed into a tumble of curls secured by a ribbon; she’d altered the dress to fit, subtly accenting her body. She looked beautiful, radiant…and somehow vulnerable.
He was acutely aware of his hand on her waist, her fingers resting lightly on his. Her face was close, those huge eyes full of some unreadable, powerful emotion, her lips slightly parted. There was no music, but they moved smoothly as one, dancing to some silent rhythm only they could hear.
Kitchen Boy (AC1)
She’d seen him before, scurrying about the palace on one errand or another with a furtive, sneaky look. He was funny, with his long floppy hair and features that seemed just a little too big for his angular face. She’d heard his name spoken, but never could remember it; she’d been brought up to ignore the servants. Still, he caught her with a strange kind of interest, casting longing glances into the ballrooms as the aristocracy celebrated. She wondered at his past sometimes, but never long enough for it to matter much. He was only a kitchen boy, after all.
Young Man (AC1)
He looks familiar, she thought suddenly as the young man whispered with his friend. She couldn’t imagine how she knew him, but that artfully mussed hair, and those dark eyes…
“Are you Dimitri?” she asked, hiding her confusion behind exasperation.
“Perhaps,” he responded cryptically. “That all depends on who’s looking for him.”
Just a nameless nobody. “My name is Anya. I need travel papers.” She leaned in conspiratorially to whisper; he did the same, his bangs falling across his forehead. Familiarity twinged again…but it was as if a wall had appeared in her mind. There was nothing there to remember.
By the way, I was looking at screenshots for the dancing scene, because I wanted to make sure I described it right, and I noticed that Anya has an impossibly small waist. You can see it again in the purple-blue dress she wears to the ballet. She appears to have the same measurements as a Barbie; either that, or she's got a corset on.