Post by rainyday on Jul 20, 2010 9:51:07 GMT -5
...Dimah Tatiana Stanislav*
*Soon, Anastasiya, we'll be together in Paris!...or...New York?*
[/size]*Soon, Anastasiya, we'll be together in Paris!...or...New York?*
...basics*
name Dimah Tatiana Stanislav
nickname "Nicknames? Civilized people don't have time to remember such silly things as nicknames."
age 38
gender Female
grade "Dear, dear. Someone needs to get their eyes checked."
hometown Copenhagen, Denmark.
sexuality Heterosexual
personification Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna
status Awake
face claim Angela Lansbury (Bedknobs and Broomsticks=Epic Win)
...appearance*
hair color Light Golden Blonde.
eye color Dark Forest Green.
build Slim, but not toned; on the verge of developing stomach fat.
height 5"8'
clothing style Dimah dresses very extravagant, even in very trivial situations, like going for a casual walk around Central Park. She's always up to date with the latest fashions, and she wears a new dress to every performance she attends, joking that she has to rehearse for her future as a star.
distinctive traits Anyone could usually spot Dimah taking long walks in Downtown Manhattan, but getting her attention is a completely different story.
...personal*
personality Stereotypes usually wear themselves out to the point that they are no longer true. One stereotype, that all wealthy people are snobs, is on its way to that point, but Dimah seems intent on keeping it alive. Although she's probably not the snobbiest person you'll ever meet, she's definitely up there on the list. Some would say that she has a right to be that way, though, because of her past, but some disagree. Either way, she really doesn't care, and she doesn't plan on changing her snobbishness any time soon. It's the only way she knows how to deal with her wealth, anyways.
There are a few things that she would like to change about herself, though. During the day, she manages to stay quiet and keep to herself out in public, but during the night...well she's not the average 40-year-old woman. Her love for night life, clubs, and after parties has never parted from her heart, and she tends to indulge on those extravagances at least once a week. Usually she prefers to bring a bottle of red wine to Times Square and drinking it at the pavilion before making her way to a party, but she sips unattended cocktail and shot glasses when she can. A taxi is always scheduled in advance to escort her back to her loft, but sometimes she doesn't comply with the deal and ends up having to rest in a lobby until she can think straight enough to trudge home. "That's just one thing that comes with being rich, I guess," she says. "Over-indulgence."
Despite some of her undesirable traits, she tends to be a woman of class when not indulging herself on the local night life, and most people respect her for that. Some that have witnessed her 'wild side' say that she is only putting on an act, but she says that her 'wild side' is an unwelcome aftershock on the earthquakes that came earlier in her life. It's all true, of course, and she really doesn't care what other people think about her, but she can't have her reputation ruined. It's all she has left.
past It all started when Dimah was born in Copenhagen to a very rich mother and a very rich father. She was treated like royalty and received what ever she asked for. A private nanny lived at the house to care for her and the chefs cooked her favorite meals whenever she would ask, no matter what time it was. Dimah seemed to be content with the house and the employees, and she seemed to be content with her parents as long as she was given what she asked for. They even gave her a little brother when she was seven years old, but she wasn't too happy with that.
The first year of her brother's life was the worst. He received all of the attention, and while her father was working, her mother was always kept busy caring for the baby because she insisted on caring for him herself. She never insisted caring for Dimah herself, but it really wouldn't have mattered so much if her mother would just listen to her. They gave her little brother everything, but Dimah didn't get what she wanted, and she had to work for what she did get. Chores just weren't her thing, so her parents got angry at her quite often, and she blamed it all on her brother. She kept a grudge against him for quite a while, but finally forgave him when she realized that he really couldn't do anything. Unfortunately, her forgiveness came too late. Her little brother died that night. He was only four years old, and he suffocated in his sleep. No one knew for sure if he died of natural causes or foul play, but her parents suspected foul play, and sometimes they would go as far as to question Dimah about it. They knew that she never liked him, but they didn't seem to know their daughter well enough to understand that she could love somebody without liking them.
Dimah's parents were always weary of her after her brother's death, and when Dimah entered the 9th grade, they sent her off to an arts school in New York City. She immediately fell in love with the theatre and decided to continue attending the school. When her parents attended her senior performance, something terrible happened. In her years at the school she developed some pretty strong relationships. One particular relationship led to some romance, and finally became intimate at the start her senior year. Her boyfriend's father, though, was an alcoholic, and he would come home almost every night drunk and angry and ready to take out his frustration on something, or someone. After a few years of the abuse, her boyfriend became tired, weak, and seemingly helpless. Dimah had talked to him a few times about her parents' assumptions and slight fear of her, and that caused a general hatred of Dimah's parents within her boyfriend. By the end of their senior year, he was done. That night was the night that Dimah's boyfriend killed himself and her parents, and that was the night that Dimah vowed never to love anyone again. Now, she lives alone up in her loft, looking out on New York and envying every family and couple that passes by her.
present When Dimah's parents died, they left her all of their fortune and belongings. Naturally, she didn't care for most of the belongings, and, therefore, she sold them. After becoming a billionaire, she moved up to the Jacobs Apartment Complex and looked out at New York for almost a straight month. Now, she's gotten herself together...sort of...and goes out almost every day to walk around New York. Almost a decade passed from her senior year at her school to the day she figured that she would start back in the realm of theatre.
After a few months, she finally decided that she was too out of practice. Now, she's back in practice, and she even auditions for open calls every now and then. Dimah makes sure to attend a different Broadway Musical once a month, but lately she hasn't been making it to as many performances as she would like.
family
Annaya Romani Stanislav (Mother)
Frederick Kelsey Stanislav (Father)
Alek Jonathan Stanislav (Brother)
likes
Theatre
Parties/Clubs
Walking
Dressy Clothing
Alcohol
dislikes
Love
Hangovers
Men
Alcohol Abuse
Fat (Both on herself and on other people.)
other notes
...literature*
book title Anastasia
backstory Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna was the grandmother of the Princess Anastasia. After learning about the possibility that the Grand Duchess Anastasia might not have died, she set out a large sum of money as a reward to whoever brought back her Anastasia.
...roleplayer*
name Porter
age The world may never know
gender Male
rp experience Tempting Fate (Medieval Fantasy board), After Sky (Steampunk board), countless neopets roleplays, and a few guilds and other boards.
How you Found Out About OUAC Neopets Ads
rp sample
The higher she stood, the harder her head throbbed, and the dizzier she became. Once she stood up as straight as she could, she slowly turned around so that she could spot all the evidence of what happened the night before. First, she noticed a broken bottle of red wine through the blur in her vision that was lying on the granite coffee table in the center of the room. Then, she noticed another bottle on the luxury velvet sofa next to her, and then a few bottles resting on her black boa just a few feet in front of her.
I knew it, she thought, sighing and turning around to look in the mirror. She was still wearing her black dress and stiletto heels from the night before, and her white sleeping gown was hanging on the end of her bed ready for her to slip it on. Dimah's reflection in the mirror revealed a few unwelcome flaws, including a small bulge at her stomach under the dress.
"Ugh! I'm drunk and fat!" A loud angry moan forced its way out of her mouth as she stumbled back and fell onto her sofa, letting out a heavy sigh. After a moment of relaxing to wear off the dizziness, she slowly stood back up and collected all the bottles of alcohol around the room. Once she was on the balcony she sat them down and looked out on the city of New York.
"This is for you," Dimah quietly said to herself, picking up the empty broken bottle of red wine. "The one who brought me to reality, showed me how hard it was, and then left me to weather it out on my own." She stuck her arm out and dropped the bottle, watching it fall down to the sidewalk.
Dimah smiled a little and picked up a half-empty bottle of vodka, glaring with disgust at her reflection in the clear glass. Her usual curly and fluffy hair was straight, flat, and untamed. Her skin was paler than normal and her eyes were purple and weak. "This is for you. You were there when I had everything and left when I lost it. Then you tricked me with your temporary presence, and now look at what you've made," she said, tossing the bottle out into the streets and feeling her eyes start to water.
"And this one," she said a little louder, "is for you. You lied to me, forced sympathy into me, and then took everything I had." She picked up an empty bottle of white wine and threw it out into the city of New York. After that, she picked up the next to last bottle and looked at the reflection again. "This is for you," she said to the reflection. "I hate you and I hate what you do to me!" Dimah let out another scream of frustration as she hurled the bottle over the balcony.
Finally, after taking a second to calm down, she looked at the last bottle. It was a bottle of tequila with one last sip left. The original feeling of disgust was quickly drowned in a huge wave of temptation. She had to fight harder than she had in a while, but she was winning at the moment. "Finally. This is for you. You're the one who can stop all this; the one who can save me from what I've done." Another heavy sigh found its way out of Dimah as she leaned to the side. "You're dead and gone, though, and no one is ever going to bring you back," she whispered between sobs, taking the last sip of Tequila and dropping the bottle over the iron fence.
