Tasya Beloi

[vyx]

TASYA ANNE BELOI.



Do you dream, that the world will know your name
So tell me your name Do you care, about all the little things
or anything at all? I wanna feel, all the chemicals inside I
wanna feel I wanna sunburn, just to know that I'm alive, To
know I'm alive.

OOC
alias: Vyx.
experience: five-six years.
how did you find us: caution 2.0.
other characters: none, yet haha.
rules password: The lantern.



THE BASICS
name: Tasya Anne Beloi.
nicknames: Tas, Tassy.
age: Eighteen.
birthdate: July 17.
rank: peasant.
occupation: servant at Miraz's castle.



THE PHYSICAL
body type: Tasya is a thin girl, with her only muscles coming in at a thin layer due to her labor. She hardly gets the opportunity to eat a healthy meal, thus the low weight.
hair: Tasya's hair is dark and naturally unnatural, the russet brown is an unusual color but falls down to her mid-back in waves. She gets it cut every few months to trim up loose ends, but other than that doesn't do much with it aside from a messy ponytail when doing her chores.
eyes: Her eyes are very cat-like in the since that they're narrow. Her eyes are brown, and are surrounded by a thick layer of lashes.
height: 5'6"
weight: 110 pounds.
facial features: Tasya's face is sharp without being mousy, her cheeks are prominent and her jaw set with pink lips and a j-curved nose.
clothing: As a servant Tasya can't afford much to wear in sense of fashionable, and is usually seen in men's clothes unless there's something formal going on and then she'll dress herself up in a simple dress of either gray or some other neutral color.
racial features: Tasya is Telmarine, for the most part, her great-grandmother was apparently some type of fair-folk, an elf or something of the sort, but whatever genes she gave didn't reach Tasya in any kind of good quantity or quality.
anything else: There's a scar across her left shoulder blade from a run-in with a drunk soldier three years ago, he shoved her down and a loose jutting slab of stone from the wall sliced through the thin material of her attire and into her skin.
playby: Hannabeth Merjos.



THE MENTAL
likes:
+ the smell of fresh rain
+ singing to herself
+ observing others
+ a good day's work
+ horse-back riding
+ dancing in the courtyard
+ playing the harp
+ being treated fairly
+ to have some pocket change
+ watch entertainers in the streets
+ attractive men
+ the fantasy of narnians
+ a good thunderstorm
+ jewelry, other shiny objects

dislikes:
+ being treated as an idiot
+ having to obey a few choice people
+ cleaning dishes
+ scrubbing floors
+ not being able to speak her mind
+ being punished
+ rudeness to-wards anyone
+ a humid heat
+ mean, dirty drunks
+ people abusing others
+ people abusing animals
+ things being predictable

strengths:
+ playing the harp
+ a very pretty voice
+ balancing many dishes at once
+ running for errands
+ speaking her opinions {to people she's allowed to speak them too}

weaknesses:
+ her very short temper
+ holding her tongue when mad
+ physical pain
+ too much darkness
+ weakened immune system

goals:
+ to be able to move herself from servant to something more...presentable.
+ earn enough somehow to purchase her own horse
+ perhaps become a part-time artisan in the streets of the city

fears:
+ the dark
+ heights
+ spiders
+ snakes
+ bees
+ death
+ marriage
+ childbirth
+ disease
+ bears
+ mice
{she's a very scared girl}

general personality:
obedient:: As to the job description, Tasya Beloi is an obedient servant to her master(s), the upper class of the castle. While she has a strong head on her shoulders, that's precisely where all her attitude and opinions lie, inside her head. Only if angry will she mutter anything about what she honestly thinks, otherwise she keeps her mouth shut unless otherwise told and does as she's said to do. She certainly doesn't love every chore either, but she knows that in order to feel accomplished for a days work as well as to not get in trouble that she must do as she's asked or face the consequences for it later on.

tomboy:: One of the most distinct things about Tas in her general work day is that when you first pass her you might take her for a man if you just simply glanced her way. Unless someone addresses her about it or it's a formal event she will usually be seen wearing men's trousers that are thin against her legs and a blouse that tucks into the waistline with billowing sleeves that fall easily down her thin arms. Her hair, as to stay out of the way, will usually be up, and her body is hardly the hour-glass figure of an obvious woman. So unless you really look at her you may have to double check she is indeed a she.

short-tempered:: It takes a lot to rile up Tasya, as she's heard a lot of vile things throughout the castle over her time there. She's gotten used to raised voices and angry tones to-wards the others in her ranking and even to-wards herself, yet what she can't stand is when people take the emotional abuse and turn it into something physical on others. When it comes to herself that anger is merely a fear, but if she is to see another receiving said treatment it's hard for her to ignore or hold herself back, though usually she manages as to not get herself in trouble.

musical:: While she is certainly not a prodigy in the harp, Tasya is graced with a good amount of decent ability in playing the instrument, however her real talent comes in the form of her natural rich soprano voice. You won't hardly ever get the chance to hear it though, for she only truly sings to her capabilities when alone doing her work, otherwise she gets shake and nervous when around others who request a song.



THE HISTORICAL
parents:
Alexander and Jessica-Marie Beloi
siblings: none.
history:
Tasya Anne Beloi was brought into this world with a scream while her mother fell dying in the bedroom of the peasant house. Her husband, Tas's father, tended to the baby girl while the midwifes huddled anxiously around his wife with wet cloths. After a few agonizing minutes they found that the woman was past help, and the new mother passed away from the stress of labor barely moments after her lovely baby girl was born into the poverty of the family's namesake. Despite the death that logically fell on her head, Tasya's father grew to never blame his daughter for what happened to her mother, but that didn't mean they got along that fondly either. Her father was hardly ever home, working his job to make money to put what could barely be called scraps on the table. For seven years she kept herself entertained running about the dirt and cobble streets with other kids in her situation, shouting and yelling out whatever words she'd learn that day before returning home late to her father setting out their barely-there meal for the night.

She never ate breakfast, and grew up without nutrition needed for a growing child. Her weight dropped because of this, sufficiently, that it left her sick and weak when she was a ten year old girl still ready for life's wonders. Worried about losing another child he pleaded his way for more work to get her help, but found little in terms he could work with. It wasn't until she slightly began to recover that her father uncovered an idea, neither of them were very happy about it. Servants weren't looked down on necessarily by her family, but her father and deceased mother had always prided themselves on making ends somewhat meet and not having to obey senseless orders to do it. However he found no other option, and as she was guaranteed a bed everynight and food every day the man shipped his only remaining kin up to the castle to begin her chores as a new servant girl.

The first thing she learned was to keep her mouth shut. Running about screaming new words and bad things was a hard habit to break, so she thought, until the maiden in charge of the new servant girls heard her spouting off curse words and other such and dragged the young child off to the nearest bar of soap she could find. The taste was vile, and Tasya was sure to never use said words again unless describing the woman behind her back. It was hard and laboring work, her still recovering body wasn't up to the tasks set ahead of her and her mental instabilities were tested at every moment by that warden of a woman who kept shouting at her different commands of what needed to be done. Eventually, having broken into tears, Tasya attempted to runaway. She fled back to her father and what had been her home and tried to make him let her hide under her bed so the evil woman couldn't get her. Her father hated seeing her so broken up, but he had made a deal that guaranteed the service of his daughter and despite her wails he carried her back to that castle and placed her again into the care of the woman.

For days she wasn't allowed to communicate with her fellow worker-women and her meal portions were cut, punishment for her reckless and 'selfish' actions when running away. Or attempting too. It was through these days she learned fully the extent of just how guarded she had to be, how obediant she had to be, in order to survive the turmoil of basically being a doormat. Overtime, and with the woman moving on from her to a new batch of girls, Tasya developed a natural taste for what she did/does, and while she may not like having to rein in her tongue all day or clean up a mess recklessly made by someone else she does them with loyalty and without question, more so out of fear for what could happen if she doesn't.




THE ROLEPLAYING
canon or original character: original.
why do you want to play this character: It's something new, I usually play more out-there, loud and somewhat arrogant characters - so it will be interesting and fun to play someone more timid and who actually follows rules haha..
take this quiz: www.springhole.net/quizzes/marysue.htm
what was your character's score?: 7
roleplay sample: How fast had time gone since she'd been preoccupied with him? How many days would she lose in his arms in the future to come? A future...the idea of knowing that someone could stick around for more than a day was an overwhelming idea, a thought she had never dared to think before now. Every human as a meal, a vampire for a change of pace, all in the past - she'd never expected them to stay. The humans of course had never had the option, the vampires hadn't done her any surprises. Loneliness was her world, had been her idea for the days and years to come, and he was changing everything. His eyes, his voice, his touch was taking her into a parallel plane where new opportunities existed. She quite liked the idea, of him there with her. She only hoped he would surprise her, that he'd stay tomorrow and the day after. Love was a many splendid thing, one she hadn't believed in, but like all else he was changing her opinion on that too. Perhaps the fairytale had been found, now she just had to keep it around and hope he saw the happily ever after too.

Taking a look out into the night-light from his windows she knew it wouldn't be a perfect start. Just looking in the mirror you could tell them apart, their diets a strict line between their ideas and their fantasies. Looking back into the ambers of his gaze she almost felt guilty, a murderer in the arms of someone who deserved so much more than a woman who preyed on innocent people. The light clicked on as the navy blue of the twilight grew darker, casting a golden glow over their marble skin and merging forms. The site of him lit with contrasting shadows in a celestial light made her take a breath before their lips were against each other in a fierce collision. Her right hand moved softly along the side of his face before running up and into his hair, locking lightly behind his head in an effort to keep him close to her.

She felt a twinge of desperation as he pulled away from her, his eyes locking back to hers and a battle of red versus gold ensuing. Again that feeling of guilt washed through her and her teeth lightly bit at her bottom lips as she tried to maneuver a thought into an actual phrase. She wanted to ask if they bothered him, if the lifestyle she chose was a disgust in his mind. Was looking into her eyes like seeing a hundred deaths in her past? But the words wouldn't come out, her heart, despite it's stillness, keeping them back as so they wouldn't ruin the gracious silence between the two figures. Her eyelids fluttered a step before closing as his nose grazed lightly over her skin, her lips ready for even the slightest contact he gave her when his light kiss touched down.

She could feel the friction of heat beginning to unravel as his hand slid down to her waist again, it slipping under the fabric of her shirt to raise it and expose her frigid flesh to the air of his room. She would have helped him along in his quest were she not confident he could very well manage on his own, and the fact she was preoccupied with head-rush as his lips crashed to hers. His heated whisper gave her chills of a new level. "Then don't ever leave me."

[/color] They came out before she recognized them, but knew them as truth. They escaped before her lip was captured by his teeth and she could feel the air exposed to basically the entirety of her torso, like a breath against what had been enclosed skin. Her hand that had wrapped behind his head grew firmer as the passion enraged in both of them, her mind consumed with a fire that an hour ago she would have never thought possible to be burning.
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[Susan Pevensie]

ACCEPTED