South

The southern part of the city has a chic family-oriented sort of charm to it. Here, small locally owned shops run rampant, neighbors often know each other by name, and the monthly socials are an event not to be missed. In the South, children can often be seen safely playing in the park or on sidewalks and in the weekends, families often take to the beach to enjoy the warm waters surrounding the city.

What You'll Find Here

Ascension Center of Equitation
Hyde Park
Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium
The Outskirts
The University of Sacrosanct

akin to stars in crystal skies


Posted on June 20, 2018 by anastasia romanova
South


She had been wakeful for the better part of an hour now, intent upon rousing before the sun could stake its claim to the world as she had done nearly every morning for greater than a century. The Duchess' condition dictated that the nighttime and twilight hours were to be largely beyond the grasp of her metaphorically reaching fingers lest she dared plunge herself into the impenetrable abyss. And so it was that Anastasia woke before the sun so that she might indulge in every hour of its brilliance, waiting with admittedly uncharacteristic patience for the moment when those first etherreal rays might pierce the visual effluvium and beckon her onward.

It is then, as she casts her eyes towards the window of her suite in search of the promised efflugence, that the padding of bare feet upon polished stone tiles draws the young woman's attention. A simper, perfectly understated upon features that were otherwise unapologetically austere, blossoms readily upon her lips as Anastasia pads lightly across her bedroom and into the common areas beyond. The peasant blouse and expertly-fitted, dark-washed demin trousers she has doned this day are a stark contrast to her usually far more formal garb, the silken curtain of crimson hair that falls about her shoulders in a glistening waterfall finishing a look that is relaxed yet nonetheless unequivocably exquisite. Even in metaphorical rags, she was royalty.

"Good morning, Alexander," she cooes affectionately before the scrutiny of her gaze falls to the box placed so innocently upon the countertop and the pastries nestled within. "Chto eto?" What is this? The query is placed almost entirely to herself as the Russian woman clasps a pastry suspiciously betwixt two slender digits, the evidence of a furrow pinched between her expertly-manicured brows as she nibbles inquisitively upon a single, flaky corner. "Mmm, it is like... vatrushka," she issues with a note of something not unlike approval as she moves to indulge further in the cheesy treat. The brims of her cherried lips twitch impishly as her eyes cut towards her father, the inflection in her voice as sweetly venomous as it always had been. "Did you choose this hotel because of the life-sized statue of you in the lobby? If so, you'll need another of these," she quips, pressing a finger against the box of pastries to slide it across the counter towards him, "to feed your ego."

Anastasia Romanova

Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia

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