What’s in a name? A surname, to be specific.
Lies? Secrets? Family?
Yulia both longs to know but rues imagining what that cloud of mystery conceals.
She has the greasy, thinning locks of her neighbors. The sunken cheekbones propping up icy, light starved eyes. A complexion to match the dust that clings to every soggy, ripped coat she tries to mend.
Yet, it may not all be circumstantial.
Bjørnstad. Few bother with the dash and she can’t blame them- linguistics has long since been put on the back burner in favour of survival skills. Her mother spoke of a place further west before she lost it. Sifting through her minimal belongings revealed something of a clue; a faded, mould eaten brochure with ‘universitetsutveksling’ as its only semi legible print.
Her father was as Russian and as absent as could be, apparently. A grown man taking a shine to a foreign teenager; disgustingly, hardly the worst thing this world has delivered.
His embrace was not welcomed and she was hardly planned. But never unwanted. A much loved daughter left to piece together what little scraps of history, of home that become more and more scarce in the wake of her only family members torn mental state.
How much of it is true? To even try and decipher her mother’s mumblings is a task on its own.
Each day brings new garments; new moth, cold and decay eaten jackets too finite to toss away. Its one thing to be resourceful and not fussy; but to cling so aimlessly to a scrap of goretex long past the magic touch of her needle and thread?
It’s a sad reminder that her struggle, her desire for understanding is not indifferent to those clinging to scraps of comfort. A torn jacket serves little purpose in the winter, but the familiar weight can stop you feeling exposed.
Wherever he is. Devil or man, the very idea that there’s someone with answers about her mother’s identity and past drives her.
Either to shared insanity, or a strange new world.
Yulia doesn't talk much- not unless spoken to first, but she is far from unwelcoming.
- Perhaps in her little makeshift 'seamstress' shop someone well travelled, versed in norwegian could comment on her surname. Maybe an older character from before the war? Curiosity might get her talking.
-Girls gotta stick together. I'm down for any plot that has her bonding with another girl/perhaps we could beginning the makings of a support network for characters 'unpleasantly influenced' by the close quarters.
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