Post by anna braginski on Mar 4, 2011 23:10:33 GMT -5
ANNA BRAGINSKI
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"so what if i'm not sovereign? i'm still here, so don't you dare ignore me!"[/center]
NAME:[/font] anna braginski
AGE: fourteen
GRADE: freshman
NATIONALITY: siberian (russian)
POSITIVE TRAITS:
- determined
- adamant
- collected
- rational
- outwardly honest
- enduring/sturdy
NEGATIVE TRAITS:
- blunt
- stubborn
- selfish
- intimidating
- cold-hearted
- bad-tempered
LIKES:
- freedom/distinction
- power
- getting her way
- cold weather
- snow
- prehistoric history
DISLIKES:
- being grouped with her brother russia (though shes used to it as well)
- being alone
- not getting her way
- being forgotten
- being underestimated
- not having her sack with her, or having it stolen
FEARS:
- global warming (the threat of it heating up her cold home)
- losing her sack to someone else
out of character
NAME: kiwi
OTHER CHARACTERS: manon janssen
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE:
It had started out fine, hadn't it? Her existence, and her buildup to power. A little pathetic, perhaps, but it was somewhere. She could remember being a much smaller child, watching her older brother Russia with his sisters Belarus and Ukraine as they wandered about the wilderness like the tiny little things they were. It was all from afar, for she was never allowed closer than out of eyesight. General Winter was much closer to her than he was to Russia, but she'd always had a hunch that the little boy had no idea of that -- he couldn't have, because it seemed clear that he didn't even know she existed. There's no need to move closer to their warmth, the bitter wind would always tell her, There are better things ahead for you. And somehow, she had no thoughts to disobey.
As she grew -- much slower than any country, she would have noted if she'd ever been around any of them besides Russia (and occasionally the Mongols and similar) -- she understood that that was her brother's undoing. He had tried for the warmth of his other two sisters, and even if he never got much, it was obvious that he only tolerated the cold and nothing more. If he were honest, she could tell he'd wish for warmth. But not her; General Winter had kept a short leash on her, and it'd made her stronger. It'd also conveniently kept her away from the emotional breakdowns Russia had endured. Every since she was small she'd known that somehow she was a part of him and not whole herself, but as geologically far away as she was the only stressors was the environment that she was so used to anyway.
Despite her vast terrain that was technically hers under the name of "Siberia", she was not large at all; rather, her aging was still quite stunted and had been at a standstill for awhile. But then Russia started sending convicts and other people out west, and even built railroads and means for them to start settlements beyond the tribal nomads that had historically made up her population. Oh, that got her moving again. Soon she'd stepped into her early teens in human years, and that adolescent heart of hers was pounding for freedom.
When Russia had finally been introduced to the world stage and and took the time to explore as far as she was, he was not surprised to see her. Perhaps it was because he too could feel her there the whole time, without knowing it was a terrestrial representation of Siberia and not just the landmass itself. She had been eased into his life long before he actually met her. And even once he had, it was still like she wasn't there -- just a shadow that didn't dare go so far west as to inhabit his house like the other lands he'd taken over, clutching her sack the unknown (a physical representation of the many minerals to be found in her land, although she was far too proud to ever relinquish it. Luckily, nobody had ever really pushed her for it yet anyway). But his easy acceptance and following ignorance of her injured her pride and strengthened her resolve. It was a pleasant surprise to find that it really was her people that drove her, as well.
It had been building among Siberians since the mid-1800s, and it was the turmoil that came in the early 20th century that brought it to a head. The end of World War I, whites versus the reds, the imminent decline of the royal family. Russia's sanity was cracking further, and she was taking advantage of it. Although the story of America's independence had in a way inspired her, she didn't take it as far as war -- instead she initiated a political movement within her population called "Siberian regionalism". Even a flag was designed in 1917 for the occasion. The whites backing up her efforts, for a while it really seemed like she could pull it off. Uprisings cleared the Bolsheviks from Siberian cities.
But she'd lost herself in that, it seemed, and found only too late that she had been blind to the fact that the Government of Autonomous Siberia had virtually no influence or authority whatsoever. Instead, it was morphed into something that sounded just a little less dramatic, the Provisional Siberian Government. It was still something to work with, however. On June 11th (her birthday, as it became) a Declaration was published: it declared its authority over territory of Siberia, while she painfully overlooked the portion where it stated its ultimate goal to be the restoration of the Russian state. No, she could still get somewhere with this, it was better than nothing. The young girl fell a little farther with that merged with Ufa Directory to create the Provisional All-Russian Government. Even if it was anti-Bolshevik (which her people had been throughout), it no longer give her what she'd initially hoped for -- independence. That was when failure hit her like a sledgehammer, deeply injuring her pride. For a moment she'd wondered if she'd die because of her failure to be her own sovereign, but she decided it wasn't likely. After all, she hadn't been one before, and she had still been there. Chances were, she'd keep on living.
But this, this was the worst part of it all. Having to face Russia in the end, having to sit down before him in his own chamber with her head down, gritting her teeth and struggling to resist clocking him in the face for daring to do this to her and her dignity. But that cheesy smile wouldn't leave his face, and they both knew she couldn't get rid of it. Even if she was one of the few people who wasn't afraid of the intimidating country.
"You'll be staying with me, da?" It was a statement posed as a question, made only to taunt her.
"As if I was ever with you in the first place," She replied coldly, clenching her fists. "You ignored me well enough before, and you'll go right back to it as soon as all of this is settled."
A momentary pause. "Your words are much like General Winter's winds. He used to tell me he had other things much more close to home, I can see what he meant now~." How the hell did he manage to sound so unperturbed and satisfied all the time? She opened her mouth to retort -- something about his weaknesses -- but he spoke again before she could. "You enjoy defying me, though. The Provisional All-Russian Government you have, the Bolsheviks will overturn that as well. In fact, they did so earlier this morning. You have nothing left, da?"
Her jaw tightened further, she she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood to keep herself from physically retaliating. But she did finally meet his violet gave solidly with her own. Slowly, she willed herself to stand. "That's where you were badly raised," She said even colder than before, glaring daggers. "You've got your power and intimidation, but you're not sane anymore. I may have grown up like a recluse, but I'll always have my pride. You just try taking that away from me." She didn't bother waiting for him to reply before turning around and leaving -- whatever he had to say wasn't important anymore, and he couldn't touch her out in the wilderness. Sure, after a couple of weeks her temper was cooled by General Winter harsh winds and subzero temperatures. Inevitably her growing halted yet again, but she tried not to dwell on it. Fine, she would sit it out for awhile, and see what the future might bring her. Maybe some day she'd have another chance. But she was born Siberia and she'd always be Siberia, and Russia couldn't take that away from her.
As she grew -- much slower than any country, she would have noted if she'd ever been around any of them besides Russia (and occasionally the Mongols and similar) -- she understood that that was her brother's undoing. He had tried for the warmth of his other two sisters, and even if he never got much, it was obvious that he only tolerated the cold and nothing more. If he were honest, she could tell he'd wish for warmth. But not her; General Winter had kept a short leash on her, and it'd made her stronger. It'd also conveniently kept her away from the emotional breakdowns Russia had endured. Every since she was small she'd known that somehow she was a part of him and not whole herself, but as geologically far away as she was the only stressors was the environment that she was so used to anyway.
Despite her vast terrain that was technically hers under the name of "Siberia", she was not large at all; rather, her aging was still quite stunted and had been at a standstill for awhile. But then Russia started sending convicts and other people out west, and even built railroads and means for them to start settlements beyond the tribal nomads that had historically made up her population. Oh, that got her moving again. Soon she'd stepped into her early teens in human years, and that adolescent heart of hers was pounding for freedom.
When Russia had finally been introduced to the world stage and and took the time to explore as far as she was, he was not surprised to see her. Perhaps it was because he too could feel her there the whole time, without knowing it was a terrestrial representation of Siberia and not just the landmass itself. She had been eased into his life long before he actually met her. And even once he had, it was still like she wasn't there -- just a shadow that didn't dare go so far west as to inhabit his house like the other lands he'd taken over, clutching her sack the unknown (a physical representation of the many minerals to be found in her land, although she was far too proud to ever relinquish it. Luckily, nobody had ever really pushed her for it yet anyway). But his easy acceptance and following ignorance of her injured her pride and strengthened her resolve. It was a pleasant surprise to find that it really was her people that drove her, as well.
It had been building among Siberians since the mid-1800s, and it was the turmoil that came in the early 20th century that brought it to a head. The end of World War I, whites versus the reds, the imminent decline of the royal family. Russia's sanity was cracking further, and she was taking advantage of it. Although the story of America's independence had in a way inspired her, she didn't take it as far as war -- instead she initiated a political movement within her population called "Siberian regionalism". Even a flag was designed in 1917 for the occasion. The whites backing up her efforts, for a while it really seemed like she could pull it off. Uprisings cleared the Bolsheviks from Siberian cities.
But she'd lost herself in that, it seemed, and found only too late that she had been blind to the fact that the Government of Autonomous Siberia had virtually no influence or authority whatsoever. Instead, it was morphed into something that sounded just a little less dramatic, the Provisional Siberian Government. It was still something to work with, however. On June 11th (her birthday, as it became) a Declaration was published: it declared its authority over territory of Siberia, while she painfully overlooked the portion where it stated its ultimate goal to be the restoration of the Russian state. No, she could still get somewhere with this, it was better than nothing. The young girl fell a little farther with that merged with Ufa Directory to create the Provisional All-Russian Government. Even if it was anti-Bolshevik (which her people had been throughout), it no longer give her what she'd initially hoped for -- independence. That was when failure hit her like a sledgehammer, deeply injuring her pride. For a moment she'd wondered if she'd die because of her failure to be her own sovereign, but she decided it wasn't likely. After all, she hadn't been one before, and she had still been there. Chances were, she'd keep on living.
But this, this was the worst part of it all. Having to face Russia in the end, having to sit down before him in his own chamber with her head down, gritting her teeth and struggling to resist clocking him in the face for daring to do this to her and her dignity. But that cheesy smile wouldn't leave his face, and they both knew she couldn't get rid of it. Even if she was one of the few people who wasn't afraid of the intimidating country.
"You'll be staying with me, da?" It was a statement posed as a question, made only to taunt her.
"As if I was ever with you in the first place," She replied coldly, clenching her fists. "You ignored me well enough before, and you'll go right back to it as soon as all of this is settled."
A momentary pause. "Your words are much like General Winter's winds. He used to tell me he had other things much more close to home, I can see what he meant now~." How the hell did he manage to sound so unperturbed and satisfied all the time? She opened her mouth to retort -- something about his weaknesses -- but he spoke again before she could. "You enjoy defying me, though. The Provisional All-Russian Government you have, the Bolsheviks will overturn that as well. In fact, they did so earlier this morning. You have nothing left, da?"
Her jaw tightened further, she she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood to keep herself from physically retaliating. But she did finally meet his violet gave solidly with her own. Slowly, she willed herself to stand. "That's where you were badly raised," She said even colder than before, glaring daggers. "You've got your power and intimidation, but you're not sane anymore. I may have grown up like a recluse, but I'll always have my pride. You just try taking that away from me." She didn't bother waiting for him to reply before turning around and leaving -- whatever he had to say wasn't important anymore, and he couldn't touch her out in the wilderness. Sure, after a couple of weeks her temper was cooled by General Winter harsh winds and subzero temperatures. Inevitably her growing halted yet again, but she tried not to dwell on it. Fine, she would sit it out for awhile, and see what the future might bring her. Maybe some day she'd have another chance. But she was born Siberia and she'd always be Siberia, and Russia couldn't take that away from her.
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