Information
Yulia has a minion!
Minion the Evil Goop
Minion the Evil Goop
Yulia
Legacy Name: Yulia
The
Common Experiment #911Owner:
villainyAge: 11 years, 2 months, 1 week
Born: March 7th, 2013
Adopted: 11 years, 2 months, 1 week ago
Adopted: March 7th, 2013
Statistics
- Level: 1
- Strength: 10
- Defense: 14
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 0
- Books Read: 0
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Unemployed
Yulia could dance the country dances that the girls liked to dance in the villages, but could not dance the Russian tango half as well. She had practiced in the shallows of the Black Sea, on the pebble beaches, under the shadow of the steppes of the Caucases in Novorossiysk, partnering the small indignant crabs. She had spun and lifted her palms to the sky, and laughed as the incoming waves plastered the summer fabric of her dress to her thighs. Her scarf, soaked with sea water, twisted above her head and rained half-salted drops onto her cheeks as she kicked up her feet.
That is how I remember her, a picture in my mind framed against the afternoon sunshine that jumped and skittered across the sea, where across the inlet, the lesser mountains lay permanently half-obscured by a mist born of summer heat. Could one be content with a picture, with the echo of heat and laughter and of salt stained clothes kissing one's skin in lieu of a warmer touch? Maybe one could be... but could I?
She danced on her wedding day, dressed as much in my memories as she was dressed in white. Her lips were all smiles and laughter, and she kicked off her shoes and spun on bare toes, her hair drenching her shoulders in dark dishevelment as her body fell to the sway of the music.
She falls into my arms, and all at once I can smell the sea, and the heat, and hear the words she tossed to me then, free-floating on the breeze:
Do you think I should marry him, sweet one?
And in her eyes, flashing in the light as she pulls me away to dance with her, I saw my answer, drawn from my mouth with a breath that my lungs fought to steal away:
If you love him, my dear.
He could dress her in white and give her his name, but the pebbles and the sea and the sun belonged to me, and her laughter would reverberate in my mind for longer than his lips remembered his own name. If you love him, my dear... even if I love you more.
That is how I remember her, a picture in my mind framed against the afternoon sunshine that jumped and skittered across the sea, where across the inlet, the lesser mountains lay permanently half-obscured by a mist born of summer heat. Could one be content with a picture, with the echo of heat and laughter and of salt stained clothes kissing one's skin in lieu of a warmer touch? Maybe one could be... but could I?
She danced on her wedding day, dressed as much in my memories as she was dressed in white. Her lips were all smiles and laughter, and she kicked off her shoes and spun on bare toes, her hair drenching her shoulders in dark dishevelment as her body fell to the sway of the music.
She falls into my arms, and all at once I can smell the sea, and the heat, and hear the words she tossed to me then, free-floating on the breeze:
Do you think I should marry him, sweet one?
And in her eyes, flashing in the light as she pulls me away to dance with her, I saw my answer, drawn from my mouth with a breath that my lungs fought to steal away:
If you love him, my dear.
He could dress her in white and give her his name, but the pebbles and the sea and the sun belonged to me, and her laughter would reverberate in my mind for longer than his lips remembered his own name. If you love him, my dear... even if I love you more.
Pet Treasure
Strangely Shaped Rock
Blue Silk Scarf
Crab