Anja
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I was born in a little village buried in the wilderness to the east of the Bratsk Reservoir, Russia. During the war, my father was conscripted and we were sent further east to fight with Japan. We lived with him, in little tents and camps a few miles behind the frontline, and in some of the coldest places I have ever known. It was in these times that things were hardest for my sister and my mother and I; there were not many women in the camps, and we all learned to hit hard and run quickly. In 1945, the Union recaptured Sakhalin from the Japanese after losing it in the war four decades earlier. Soon after, Hitler and Hirohito surrendered.
In exchange for his service, the big men in the Red Army gave my father a position in the Avina Rock lighthouse and a government stipend of four hundred rubles per year; more than enough to make a rich man in a small town. There we retired, and for many years we lived happily enough, taking trips to Aniva and Korsakov and being lulled to sleep by the crashing of waves. But slowly things began to change. The bay of Korsakov became a graveyard for ships, the money we received from the Union began to buy less and less, the villages shrunk, and worse - my parents became sick with pneumonia from months and years spent in the constant damp and cold.
They died soon after, and my sister and I were left alone.
We tried to care for the lighthouse, but it fell into disrepair; father never taught us his trade. We no longer receive money from the government, and to be truthful, we do not even know if we are governed by the same Union we knew as cubs. Still, we reside there and try to make the best and warmest of a cold and dreary home. At least we have each other.
By the wonderful, inimitable Annatali
http://i.imgur.com/eu9mwNL.jpg" alt="eu9mwNL.jpg" />
https://static1.e621.net/data/ff/d1/ffd1f51d78e574cfbb0b4349bf27f2d8.png" alt="ffd1f51d78e574cfbb0b4349bf27f2d8.png" style="width:784px;height:616.279px;" />
Art by
RUdragon. Owned by him, too, not me. So drop me a line, RU, if you'd rather me not use these for my characters <3
In exchange for his service, the big men in the Red Army gave my father a position in the Avina Rock lighthouse and a government stipend of four hundred rubles per year; more than enough to make a rich man in a small town. There we retired, and for many years we lived happily enough, taking trips to Aniva and Korsakov and being lulled to sleep by the crashing of waves. But slowly things began to change. The bay of Korsakov became a graveyard for ships, the money we received from the Union began to buy less and less, the villages shrunk, and worse - my parents became sick with pneumonia from months and years spent in the constant damp and cold.
They died soon after, and my sister and I were left alone.
We tried to care for the lighthouse, but it fell into disrepair; father never taught us his trade. We no longer receive money from the government, and to be truthful, we do not even know if we are governed by the same Union we knew as cubs. Still, we reside there and try to make the best and warmest of a cold and dreary home. At least we have each other.
By the wonderful, inimitable Annatali
Art by
RUdragon. Owned by him, too, not me. So drop me a line, RU, if you'd rather me not use these for my characters <3