Post by SCALLYWAG on Jun 11, 2014 6:13:46 GMT
yulia zharkov
25
female
Heterosexual
coordinator
unaffiliated
Other
who's behind you
traditional coordinator choices, danke.
diggin' deeper and deeper
Sound is a fairy tale for Yulia. Her voice, melodic and sweet, comes out in moans that sound like words, and vice versa. You have to really listen to understand her, and for most this is too much of a hassle. She also has a beautiful singing voice. She enjoys the vibrations songs create inside of her. It is often accused of being haunting; like an apparition crying, sporadic and without rhyme.
She smiles with barely a twitch of her cheek muscles, she a naturally solemn individual. Where she is difficult to read, for her practically all others are open books. The supposedly cold woman has a heated gaze, or one so cold it burns. "Eyes that wring the soul out for its secrets" is what one man wrote in an apology letter to her mother. He was a suitor, one of many frightened by those purple orbs. Such a frail girl never meant to intimidate, but rather learn all there is to.
If a book isn't in her lap she is asleep, playing her role, or painting. Perhaps being deaf made her appreciate color and touch more so than others, or perhaps she would have loved them regardless. In her dreams it's the latter. Taste could be included with her favorite senses, if it were not for a finicky palate.
The type of book she carries with her varies from the sort you read to the sort you spill you heart into with ink. She has an obsession with writing letters and hers are indeed thoughtful. It is how she touches other peoples hearts, or attempts to, and is understood by them. She prefers this even over sign language, which is nary practiced anyway. Her handwriting is both lovely and legible.
She smiles with barely a twitch of her cheek muscles, she a naturally solemn individual. Where she is difficult to read, for her practically all others are open books. The supposedly cold woman has a heated gaze, or one so cold it burns. "Eyes that wring the soul out for its secrets" is what one man wrote in an apology letter to her mother. He was a suitor, one of many frightened by those purple orbs. Such a frail girl never meant to intimidate, but rather learn all there is to.
If a book isn't in her lap she is asleep, playing her role, or painting. Perhaps being deaf made her appreciate color and touch more so than others, or perhaps she would have loved them regardless. In her dreams it's the latter. Taste could be included with her favorite senses, if it were not for a finicky palate.
The type of book she carries with her varies from the sort you read to the sort you spill you heart into with ink. She has an obsession with writing letters and hers are indeed thoughtful. It is how she touches other peoples hearts, or attempts to, and is understood by them. She prefers this even over sign language, which is nary practiced anyway. Her handwriting is both lovely and legible.
a little background check
History goes here. Please try to give at least three full paragraphs.
behind the glass mask
scallywag
⤷THE LAST UNICORN ⤷UNICORN/ AMALTHEA ⤷ZHARKOV,YULIA
