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Character Origins > Silvy's Character Origins

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*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) (Silverfur) | 386 comments My Charries:

Roza- Can change the temperature of a room

Jack- Can communicate with the dead


*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) (Silverfur) | 386 comments Roza's Character Origon
The laundry room/basement door slammed shut, followed by a little girl with dark, dark brown hairand hard gray eyes. She scurried into the living room/dining room/master bedroom, hurryng to get the laundry done.
Little twelve year old Roza (she would be thirteen in a few months- November seventh) cursed in Russian after taking a quick glance at the antique grandfather clock in the corner. Ibrahim would be home soon, and the laundry had to be folded. He hated doing his own.
She had just finished smoothing the wrinkles out of the last piece of laundry when the closimg sound of a shabby maple wood door announcing her step-father's arrival from work at the local, cheap bar. He always came home smelling like clove ciggarers, Russian whiakey, and polo cologne. Roza hated the smell. She found it suffocating and musty. Like the scent of an attic sprayed with febreeze every five months. It made her stomach churn just thinking about it.
"Roza?" The heavy accent was Muldovian, and a lot harder to umslderstand than hers. ">Idi syuda poshaluist." Get in here,
please.
Roza paused, confused, but also cautious. Ibraham always ignored her until her mother came home, which was long after Roza was in
bed. Not to mention the tone of his voice was creeping her out. It was
deadly calm, like Ibraham was in some sort of trance. Except, there was something else buried underneath the calm. Some sort of darkness that
she couldn't detect. It sent cold trickles down her spine like ice water.
"Da?" Yes? The measly girl asked in a quiet voice. Meanwhile, wild thoughts ran through her head.
Why is he asking for me? Did I do something wrong? What does he want?
The middle-aged Russian man stood before her, face hard. His greasy blonde hair hung in his face,
his beady black eyes studying her. Ibraham was not an attractive man.
He was very short, only a few inches taller than Roza, and had an enormous potbelly that sagged over the front of hs slacks. If you looked close enough, you would notice a
small bald patch in the center of his
head.
"Vy zabyli sdelat'blyuda." You forgot to do the dishes." That same, eerie calm voice as before, yet somehow, even more chilling. That was all? Roza fought to keep her face
empty as she replied, "hm, da, ya sdelal." Um, yeah, I did. "Pochemw?" Why? Impatient now, with a snip in his voice.
She paused now, glancing at the
sink where there were only three dishes to be washed. "U menya byli problemy s-shaiboi. On-to derzhal grahot i utechka kozhdyi ras, khogda ya bezhalnagruckzi. Ya ne
hotel zabyuat.
" I was having problems with the washer. It-it kept rattling and leaking every time I ran a load. I didn't mean to forget.
The old man laughed. A humorless
laugh laced in a black coldness. True fear shot through her now. Was he
drunk? "Vy zabyli, da? Eto tvoe opravdanie? Vy prosto zabyli, tak cnto eto normalino, chto vy ne sdelalinodnoi iz vashih obyazannostyei? Ne dumayu."
You forgot, huh? Is that your excuse?
You just forgot, so it's okay that you didn't do one of your chores? I don't
think so."
Appauled, Roza could only stare, feeling ger temper spike. " Ya sdedal vsedrugie obyazannosti, o
yes' tol'ko neskol'ko blyud
vrakovine.
" I did all the other chores, and there's only a couple dishes in the sink. I'll just do them
after dinner. It was an amazingly
hard struggle to keep her voice calm, but bysome small miracle, she did just that.
Ibraham didn't agree. He
took a threatening step forward, his pale and pudgy face dark and cold,
like black marble left to frnd for itself
in a stirk of dark snow. "Ya prosto delat' ih posle obeda tak vot chto, a?
Vy prosto budele ih delat' v drugoe
vremya, i chto horosho. Ne, eto ne.
i>" So that's that, huh? You'll just do them some other time and that's ok, right. No, it's not. He growled, his
voice raising at least one octave. "My prosto prosim vas, chtoby
sdelat' nekotorye veshchi vokrugdom a my net, no vy reshite, chto vam ne
rabout Pridet-sya, i ostavit svoya mat
budu delat' usyu.
" We just ask
you to do some things around the house while we're gone, don't have
to, and leave your mother and I to do
the work?"
He really was drunk, she decided angrily. "YA tebya znayu,
vhto ya zanimayus' delami v techenie
vsego dnya! YA mel PosyPonny i, vyter, prigo tovlennyi, i sdelal bel'e! YA rabotayu tselyi den; chto delaetbetot dom Priyatno! Tak chto ya, ya, zabyl, neskol'ko blyud, ne eto ne bol'shaya problema!
" I'll have you know that I have been doing chores all day! I swept, dusted, mopped, cooked, and did your
laundry! I've been workimg all day, makimg this house nice! So, yeah,
Iforgot a few dishes, but it's no big deal." She could have sworn that the room had grown warmer, but she told herself that it was just her adrenaline pumping.
Roza's little speech had made something inside Ibraham Snidov snap. Whatever small dam of self-control he had built had been broken by the girl's foolish words. The dam was brokem and washed away to nothing,allowing a large food of rage through.
He now spoke in such fast Russian that not even Roza could keep up. She did pick up a few words
like 'lazy', 'irresponsible', 'idiotic', and some others.
They spat back and forth between each other. Every harsh


word seemed to make the room spike up in tempeeature. And it wasn't just Roza who thought so, either. Ibraham was sweating buckets, and she could clearly see the vein on his temple throbbing. That's when things took a turn for the worst.
"Vy nichego no delaete- to zdes; ya, vy znaete. Dom grazni, yeda myagki, i maya bel'e nikogda horoshonochichena. Vy soversheno bespolrnzo, estochudo vas otets ushel. You don't do anything aroud here, I hope you know. The house is filthy, the food is bland, and
my laundry is never well cleaned. You're totally useless. It's a wonder your dad left. He spoke with a cold tone, yet still snarky and sarcastic. He knew he'd hit big.
It's a wonder your dad left. These words rang in her ears asRoza let out a scream of rage. The room was so hot, it felt as thoigh she eere being set on fire. She wasn't,of course. The curtains on the other side of the room,however, were another story.
Cheap, thin curtains made of cotton suddely burst into flame, startling both Ibraham and Roza.







They watched in stunned silenxe for a mokent, neither one having any idea what happened to the curtains if no one was near them. Then, Ibraham whirlee back around, grabbijg Roza by the shoulder.
"Kak ty eto sdelal?" How did you do that? The pudgy man demanded, and now she could definately smell alcoohol on his breathe. Whether it had always been there, or only appeared now was uncertain to Roza. All she knee was that Ibraham's grip was very painful. "Chto- to, chto yy imyeete v vidu ya nichegone delal! Wha- what do you mean? I didn't do anything!" She attempted to wiggle out of her captor's grip, but he only dug his fingers indeeper. It took all of her strength not to cry out in pain.
"Sdelat' eto ostanout!" Make it stop. He screamed in a shrill voice. It was like he had seen a ghost that was now attacking him. " Ya ne znayu kak! I don't know how! She kscreamed back, ffeeling the paamic surge up her throat. "Ya etogo ne delal, chetnoe slovo! YA dazshe ne znayu... YA ne znayu, ya ne mogu-" I didj't do it, I swear! I ddon't even know... I don't know, I can't-" she was cut off by a loud crack and large sting on her cheek once Ibraham had struck her.

The paain struck Roza hard, and this time, she did cry out in pain. Her previously chapped cheek suddenly warm and sticky. She gassped, reaallizingg that her cheekk had staarted to blleed. Now, it was her eyes that began to stingg.
Aagain and aagain amd again she waas struckk, her pleas being ijgnored until Ibraahlam was givvenn aa harsh kickk in the sshin. Distracted by the pain, Roza realized her chance of escaape, and wrigggglled away, limpingg as ffast aas she couldd hher bedroom, and bolltedd the door shut.
Thsst nigght, in the coldd, dark city off St. Petersburg, a little girl who looked much youngger than shhe really was- especially in her daarkest hour- lay curled in a cave of blankets. Hher fface waas coveredd in dirt, and one sside caked with a thin layer of blood. Where her teaars of sorrow had dried in uneven lines were thhe only.places where she was clean. And those tears stilll shed, able to wash away her ddirt, but not her pain. Stifling her sobs eas her small fist, shovedd in her mouth.
Roza's mother came home and nothingg wals ever said. Fear kept the little Russiaan girl's mouth shut.



*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) (Silverfur) | 386 comments I apologize for all the misrakes andd typis, but this is the ffirst time I'm typingg on a nook. Sorry!


message 4: by Thera (new)

Thera (therjolras) | 5311 comments It's cool. Looks pretty cool, though.


*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) (Silverfur) | 386 comments Haha, thdanks!


message 6: by Thera (new)

Thera (therjolras) | 5311 comments :)


message 7: by Kat (new)

Kat (SugarAddict) | 2128 comments Silvy- Amazingness! I lahve this.


*~Silvypoo~* (Chaser of Artemis) (Silverfur) | 386 comments Really? Yay! I'm so glad you like it!


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