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Apr 7, 2015 14:33:36 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Apr 7, 2015 14:33:36 GMT -5
Thread theme: linkLas Vegas was a foreign land, but the peculiarity of the city didn't deter the almost one thousand years old Siberian Tiger to slide along the street between the throngs of humans and supernaturals alike with a grace known for a werecat, yet her steps never lacked the purpose and indeed they shared the glimmer of same notion within her bright blue eyes. And for some reason; Zoya remembered.. ”Remember remember the fifth of November, the gunpowder treason and plot,” for deep within her heart, within a small soft spot; there was joy of finding a long lost mother, ”I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot,” however around this spot there was a malignant darkness that was nurtured along the course of a whole Millennium, something similar to the words within the poem. Yet, Anxiety stirred the inner thoughts of Zoya for the anticipated confrontation. For this particular moment; the Werecat prepared a revolver gun under her coat with normal bullets and nothing else. The coat was gray in color, underneath was a long sleeved white simple shirt made of cotton and blue denim jeans. Her steps were clad in a white mixed with blue sneakers, and they were guiding her where Anya Belkov lived. Zoya never liked surprises, thus she considered going directly where the mother lived was indeed the proper act; she wanted to see her with her own eyes, speak with the so called mother and hear her voice, then shall come the time for dark vengeance for a dead father that she never had met and the mother who left a child abandoned behind. Pain. Zoya felt one thousand years old pain.. Still, one of her palms found their way for the doorbell clicking the button gently, while the other held one red tulip, and all what she was thinking about was a Vendetta, but it would certainly wait. Not yet; Zoya thought to herself feeling how close the holstered gun to her waist beneath the coat. Mother will open the door; Zoya reflected. And I shall giver her a smile; she decided. I will tell her 'hi'; the werecat determined. And after the pleasantries were exchanged. ”There is a lost girl in within the neighborhood,” Zoya would tell her, ”my name is Zoya,” a hand would be stretched for a handshake, ”I am a private detective,” she hoped her mother would let her in while wondering if Anya was able to correlate her appearance, ”and I just need to ask you some questions,” Zoya brought out the words with an innocent smile, ”that if you don't mind,” she concluded later on knowing very well that it was past noon, ”maybe you will help returning the child back to her mother,” the words were English but sweetened like honey with Russian accent. Many words || Remember me || @tagged |
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Apr 7, 2015 23:03:59 GMT -5
Post by Anya Pajari-Belkov on Apr 7, 2015 23:03:59 GMT -5
I know it's sad Its true my dear
What's one more blow to seal this fate
And what's one more nail it's getting late Anya might not be staying at her apartment overnight, but she spent a good part of her time there when she wasn't stuck with Loki. She even relieved her niece from her catsitting duties, mostly because she missed Cleo and just wanted to be the one caring for the spoiled savannah. She was actually there playing with the spoiled feline when she heard the knock on her front door. Frowning, she went to answer the door. The girl she came face to face with stunned her. On the hand, she looked so familiar. On the other, she was certain they had never met. For one thing, she couldn't recall her scent at all. Still, the vague sense of recognition bugged her.
Then the woman dropped her name. She blinked a few times. It couldn't be. It was impossible. Thoughts spinning around her head like a cotton candy maker, she switched to autopilot. She shook her hand, invited her inside, and led her to the kitchen. She keep up with the pleasantries however. The girl's accent and her name were bugging Anya. Combine that with the sense of deja vu and the werecat couldn't buy it as a coincidence. So, she rounded on her once inside.
“There are no missing children in the neighborhood,” she said. “I'm a journalist and I pay attention when my neighbors are distraught. Who are you?” 231 @zoya
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Apr 8, 2015 11:32:14 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Apr 8, 2015 11:32:14 GMT -5
Thread theme: linkDespite how much Zoya wanted to deny it, yet the truth remained the same; both of them had the same attitude, and both of them were confrontational although in the most ways candor; indeed honesty was a very harsh way to follow. Zoya stepped inside taking into note that her dear mother was playing along with every statement she was fed. Uncaring about how the apartment looked like just inside; Zoya's sight was fixated upon the subject of her obsession thus the mother at last found after a long time thought as lost. The daughter couldn't deny that her mother had a taste when it came to clothes, but she kept the thoughts to herself being led to the kitchen, that's when Anya turned around to confront her daughter face to face. ”I think you are misinformed,” Zoya explained the fault in her mother's argument, ”you should trust your instincts more,” since the daughter caught the change on Anya's face when she was at her door's step, ”there is a lost child, but she was lost for thousand years,” Zoya was contemplating the best time to use the hidden gun, ”yet the child kept looking for her mother, although the mother chose otherwise” perhaps when Anya comes into the revelation of Zoya's true identity, ”and I am the lost child,” then it would be the most cruel indeed, ”you know me more than anyone else,” Zoya was perfectly honest for there was no need to hide anything, ”Remember me?” of course there was another option, ”or do you like me to refresh your memory,” although Zoya knew she didn't have to; her mother after all was intelligent woman and such was a trait Zoya had inherited, ”Mother?” and this was the first time Zoya's lips felt the maternal name. Many words || Remember me || @tagged |
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Apr 9, 2015 14:52:32 GMT -5
Post by Anya Pajari-Belkov on Apr 9, 2015 14:52:32 GMT -5
I know it's sad Its true my dear
What's one more blow to seal this fate
And what's one more nail it's getting late Anya stiffened at that single word she never thought she'd hear anyone call her. She only had one daughter and she hadn't been old enough to say it when Anya slaughtered her. It wasn't possible for the woman in front of her to be Zoya. Anya couldn't accept it. It had to be a cruel, cruel joke. Loki found some girl to screw with her head.
“Not possible,” she growled in fury. “I don't have any idea who you are but I don't have a daughter. She never reached her first birthday.”
She couldn't face the truth, even though it was right there, staring her in the face. Her daughter dying was much easier to stomach than the thought that Anya had left her daughter alone to die. That was something she couldn't face. She refused to face it. So she held on to her stubborn disbelief and anger. It was a low and how dare the little bitch imply that she abandoned her little girl. She had loved her husband and her daughter and part of her died with them.
“I can't help you,” she said coldly. “I don't want to. Get the hell out of my house. You really have some nerve pulling up dead infant's name just to play the wounded child card on a stranger you don't even know. Leave and don't come back.” 229 @zoya
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Apr 9, 2015 17:26:18 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Apr 9, 2015 17:26:18 GMT -5
Thread theme: linkOne thousand years ago; Anya killed her husband and abandoned her child after such a loss of control over her bestial form. By then, within these modern nights, when she was confronted by the surviving daughter; Anya abandoned her again thus killing her twice with a false conviction of Zoya's death. There was a slight twitch within Zoya's right eye; a phenomenon addressed to show a sign of a momentary disbelief. The daughter expected explanations and words of apology, instead she was given the denial card of the 'impossible' and was told that the baby didn't survive her first namesake. ”I really love how you mentally killed twice,” Zoya decided that she was going to enjoy this to every last bit of it, ”since you killed papa and never looked behind to check on me,” because Anya's act paved the road of vengeance quite easily and removed any obstacle of regret or remorse in Zoya's heart, ”and now you act if I don't even exist,” yet the daughter was not the manipulative type, she didn't smile or act up that her mother's words didn't affect her, hence the tone of her voice was filled with distraught amplified by a turmoil almost reaching a one thousand years climax, still it was driven with anticipation and resolution that she would see this through and end this obsession. ”I never said I am here seeking help,” Zoya was there for a different purpose than that one Anya was imagining, yet how her mother followed up with words forced the daughter to wince in pain feeling her eyes welling up with tears, ”I am here to take what is mine by right,” she shut close her to let loose of the tears and once they were open again they were filled with hatred and murderous intent, ”I am her to punish you for all the things you have done to me,” then quick as her supernatural speed would offer; Zoya picked the gun to shoot her mother's abdomen with two consecutive shot like the same she did the Germans in world war two, although she wasn't sure who was quicker than the other, but Zoya was hell bent on vengeance nonetheless. Many words || Remember me || @tagged |
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Apr 20, 2015 19:09:06 GMT -5
Post by Anya Pajari-Belkov on Apr 20, 2015 19:09:06 GMT -5
I know it's sad Its true my dear
What's one more blow to seal this fate
And what's one more nail it's getting late Anya didn't know what to think, but she did expect her to give up the ruse. So when Zoya didn't give in and say it was a cruel game to get to her, Anya's heart shattered. She had tortured herself with little what if scenarios where her daughter and her husband somehow survived. Most of them were positive in every single way. There certainly some that ended up on a less positive note, like this one. They played out in her dreams usually. Anya never played out the negative consciously. Still, she couldn't bring herself to say a word or move as her mind whirled with the new revelation.
Her daughter was right, though. If she truly was who she said, Anya abandoned her as an infant. Then again, not many knew what she did in her first turn. Andrei knew of course. While he was an asshole to most people, he would never do something like this to hurt her. Loki was just evil but playing with her sensitivities by doing something like making some poor girl tear at her heart. It just didn't seem like his method of operations. As the girl spoke, Anya found it harder to deny her claims but she just couldn't find the words to say. It wasn't until she saw the tears in her eyes that she opened her mouth again, but Zoya didn't give her the chance as she continued on.
Then she saw the gun. Her mind raced with thoughts and commands that never reached her limbs. She knew she should move or say something to try and calm the bitter girl, but she couldn't. She just stood there for a moment before she finally moved to get out of the way. It wasn't fast enough as one of the bullets hit its mark. She sunk to her knees whether it was from the pain of the wound alone or the pain coupled with the massive weight of devastation, she couldn't even begin to guess. She pressed a hand to the hole and looked down at it. Tears threatened to escape but not because of the wound. She could see her daughter hated her and that was enough to kill her.
She expected it to hurt more but when it didn't she realized it wasn't silver, just a lead bullet. Of course it hurt, but it didn't burn like acid. She looked up at Zoya and frowned, both confused and hurt.
“Why?” she asked, one simple word for so many different questions she had. 424 @zoya
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