Anastasia Rosewood - Daughter of Aphrodite
My parents named me Anastasia, but others call me Tasya.
In case you're blind, I look like this:My long blond hair is long enough to fall past my bottom, but I always have it tied up in a twist on the back of my head. I am rather short, at only 5'2", but I also only weigh 94 lbs. I wear a dress that I found in my attic, a green sleeveless dress which has threads of silver, or at least what looks like silver, hanging along the back and over my shoulders. It has an orb falling from the back, apparently to perfect my posture? That's what Papa always told me. The dress comes down to my ankles, and I wear flats that match the colour of the dress. Oh, you mean in public? Well, I wear normal clothes, of course!
I have sixteen candles on my birthday cake.
I love my Papa who raised me up till now, even though we're not related by blood, unlike the other who abandoned us.
When growing up, I noticed I was good at singing, swimming, harp, and dancing.
If you looked at my 'History' on my browser, you'd see playing the harp, singing, dancing (ballroom, particularly, but I also do some nice solo dancing as well), animals, rain, water, swimming, and meeting new people..
Though, if you saw my dart board, you'd see pictures of places that are too hot or dry, people who are selfish and/or conceited, sports (I was always bad at them!), fighting, and running (as a sport, or as a way to get around) with darts in them.
Growing up, monsters started to attack me so I had to use a celestial bronze rope dart to warn them off. It's cool, because the rope is flame retardant (for some reason; it's almost like a gift from a God!) I can light the red cloth on fire and put on a show without getting burned. I do that, sometimes, in my dances.
And here's a mini autobiography of my life up till now.
I was raised by a man I was never related to. I called him 'Papa' and we did things like any other father and daughter. I was found on his doorstep, only a newborn, wrapped in white cloth with a package wrapped in paper covering my body. The man, Sakke Rosewood, took me inside, reported my appearance, and when no parents claimed me, adopted me as his own. He gave me the name Anastasia, but wound up calling me Tasya by the time I could walk. He got me into ballet, and even though he was busy with his work he made sure to come to every single show I was a part of. He got me into the best schools, even though it was more expensive, and he made sure that he helped me with my studies every night. When I told him I wanted a kitten, he took me to the rescue center and let me choose any one I wanted.
It was a life that everybody wanted, I was happy, and I didn't even care that my own parents didn't want me. I learned that Sakke had a family, once, before I came along. He had a beautiful wife and a daughter that looked sorta like me, when I was little at least, and I learned why he named me Anastasia: its Greek origins meant resurrection. Some kids might have been sad to find that they were living a lie, they were only a replacement, but I knew that it wasn't true. I knew that, although Sakke probably only adopted me initially as a replacement, I was Tasya to him, not his dead daughter.
As I grew I found myself surrounded by friends, although I was often the center of bullying. My friends told me the girls were just jealous because I was so pretty, and I modestly turned them away. Hubris was dangerous to dance with. One day, though, I got chased down by some of the girls and locked into the storage portable. I couldn't get out, the door was blocked from the outside, and all I could hear was growling from behind me. At first, I thought they had locked me in with just a dog, but the glowing red eyes told me otherwise. I passed out, fainted, and when I woke up I was at the camp; a backpack on my chest. Inside was the dress I liked to wear at home, a change of clothes, a water bottle, and a note from Papa; his wishes that I enjoy my new life and stay safe.
OH! And I almost forgot. I never knew either of my blood parents, I was found on the doorstep by the man who raised me.
In case you're blind, I look like this:My long blond hair is long enough to fall past my bottom, but I always have it tied up in a twist on the back of my head. I am rather short, at only 5'2", but I also only weigh 94 lbs. I wear a dress that I found in my attic, a green sleeveless dress which has threads of silver, or at least what looks like silver, hanging along the back and over my shoulders. It has an orb falling from the back, apparently to perfect my posture? That's what Papa always told me. The dress comes down to my ankles, and I wear flats that match the colour of the dress. Oh, you mean in public? Well, I wear normal clothes, of course!
I have sixteen candles on my birthday cake.
I love my Papa who raised me up till now, even though we're not related by blood, unlike the other who abandoned us.
When growing up, I noticed I was good at singing, swimming, harp, and dancing.
If you looked at my 'History' on my browser, you'd see playing the harp, singing, dancing (ballroom, particularly, but I also do some nice solo dancing as well), animals, rain, water, swimming, and meeting new people..
Though, if you saw my dart board, you'd see pictures of places that are too hot or dry, people who are selfish and/or conceited, sports (I was always bad at them!), fighting, and running (as a sport, or as a way to get around) with darts in them.
Growing up, monsters started to attack me so I had to use a celestial bronze rope dart to warn them off. It's cool, because the rope is flame retardant (for some reason; it's almost like a gift from a God!) I can light the red cloth on fire and put on a show without getting burned. I do that, sometimes, in my dances.
And here's a mini autobiography of my life up till now.
I was raised by a man I was never related to. I called him 'Papa' and we did things like any other father and daughter. I was found on his doorstep, only a newborn, wrapped in white cloth with a package wrapped in paper covering my body. The man, Sakke Rosewood, took me inside, reported my appearance, and when no parents claimed me, adopted me as his own. He gave me the name Anastasia, but wound up calling me Tasya by the time I could walk. He got me into ballet, and even though he was busy with his work he made sure to come to every single show I was a part of. He got me into the best schools, even though it was more expensive, and he made sure that he helped me with my studies every night. When I told him I wanted a kitten, he took me to the rescue center and let me choose any one I wanted.
It was a life that everybody wanted, I was happy, and I didn't even care that my own parents didn't want me. I learned that Sakke had a family, once, before I came along. He had a beautiful wife and a daughter that looked sorta like me, when I was little at least, and I learned why he named me Anastasia: its Greek origins meant resurrection. Some kids might have been sad to find that they were living a lie, they were only a replacement, but I knew that it wasn't true. I knew that, although Sakke probably only adopted me initially as a replacement, I was Tasya to him, not his dead daughter.
As I grew I found myself surrounded by friends, although I was often the center of bullying. My friends told me the girls were just jealous because I was so pretty, and I modestly turned them away. Hubris was dangerous to dance with. One day, though, I got chased down by some of the girls and locked into the storage portable. I couldn't get out, the door was blocked from the outside, and all I could hear was growling from behind me. At first, I thought they had locked me in with just a dog, but the glowing red eyes told me otherwise. I passed out, fainted, and when I woke up I was at the camp; a backpack on my chest. Inside was the dress I liked to wear at home, a change of clothes, a water bottle, and a note from Papa; his wishes that I enjoy my new life and stay safe.
OH! And I almost forgot. I never knew either of my blood parents, I was found on the doorstep by the man who raised me.
