poly_chromatic

It's funny. I used to think that, once I got to Paris...once I figured out where I came from, who I'm supposed to be, once all that fell into place, I didn't think that I'd really miss Russia too much. I mean, I can't remember it being home. I just remember it as a place I used to live.

But I actually do miss it. I miss Russia. I miss the long winters and the dark nights, and the snow and cold...I miss the food, the music...I remember that one year, there was a travelling salesman who stopped by the orphanage. It was right around Christmas, I think, and he'd have all these used toys and things to give to the children, and I got this little matryoshka doll. It wasn't a complete one, I think it was missing a few of the other dolls, but it was still nice, and...

Well, there was just something familiar about it. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was like...like a simpler version of something I used to know.

Of course, Comrade Phlegmenkof made me give it to one of the younger girls almost immediately. I pitched such a fit about that...

I wonder how she's doing. She must have been furious when I didn't go to the fish market like she told me to. Or maybe she didn't care. I mean, I was out of her hair, after all, there were plenty of other children to worry about...

....is it weird I miss her? That I miss the orphanage and the other children and Russia? It wasn't home, but...it was, I guess. Does that make sense? God, I must sound like an idiot right now.

[ooc: Roots Day! But since Anya can't remember her ACTUAL family heritage or roots, she's just thinking about Russia in general, and her time in the orphanage.]

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Winter will come along soon enough.

[Isaak doesn't get homesick, really, but he does like to think of home. His tone is joking, but certainly not mocking.]

Oh, I know it will, but it won't be a Russian winter.

...which may be a good thing, honestly. I don't think most of the people here could handle that.

I think you're right. A handful of us would be perfectly content, but that we'd have to listen to the rest complaining.

I origin from a small village with which I would rather not be associated. Nevertheless, there are times, still -- when I think of those I left behind.

I think we all come to miss important people, even if we haven't seen them in a long time or our relationship wasn't the best.

[ he'd be the last person to judge on something like that. ]

I also miss Russia. Taganrog, mostly, and also Saint Petersburg. I thought that I would miss all of Russia less once I was at the Academy and then in space, but nowhere else will be home. Nowhere else will have the right food.

But no, this is not idiotic. It is easy to miss home, even the parts of home that were less than pleasant.

No, I think it makes sense.

I mean, a lot of things about our homes can be terrible, but we're sort of used to the ways that they're terrible.

I was only in Saint Petersburg for a little bit. But there was something about the city...all the people, the hustle and bustle...I wouldn't have minded staying a little longer, to be honest.

I know! The food, I miss that the most! Nothing here is bad, exactly, but...well, you get it.

We're used to the terrible, so we sort of miss it when it's not around because it means things are different.

I never thought I'd miss getting yelled at. And yet, here we are.

Of course, they'd have to come to us to survive. That'd be nice...well, at least for a while. Then it would get annoying, I suppose.

That's how I feel about the orphanage. It wasn't the best place in the world, but...well, it was home. Or at least the only one I can remember, anyway.

Comrade Phlegmenkof was the exact kind of person you DON'T want running an orphanage. I think if she was younger, she'd have been wonderful in the army, but looking after kids? Probably not the smartest choice there.

But she fed us, kept us clothed, and even made sure some of us got adopted. She did her job.

You were too young at the time when you were entrusted into the care of the orphanage - to recall it?

Oh, they'd get by, I'm certain. If nothing else, people here do that well.

There's no shame in missing home, I think, whether or not you were fond of it. No home is perfect, after all.

Petersburg is the most beautiful city I have ever been in--not that I lived in a beautiful part of it, but the Nevsky Prospect lit up at Christmastime? Nothing compares to that, although I will admit that I prefer Taganrog. It will always be home.

I have some experience cooking food from home. What is your favorite food that you miss?

Something like that, yeah...

[Marguerite gives Anya a long, contemplative look, before another mood entirely overtakes her. With a smile, she turns to a much more pleasant topic.]

You spoke of going to Paris, Mademoiselle? Ah, but I have met many young Russians in my time - fine men, who sought their fortune in my beloved city.

[She blinks before grinning, eyes wide and bright.]

You're from Paris? Really?!

What's it like there? Oh, it must be beautiful...the city of lights, romance...

It's the only city I've really been in, so I can't say it's the most beautiful, but...it is amazing. And it is beautiful. Even the old abandoned palace was still beautiful.
I don't think I've ever been to Taganrog...that's by the sea, though, isn't it?

Oh, tough question...well, at the orphanage, we never really got anything fancy. I remember that Comrade Phlegmenkof made some pretty decent borsch, and we usually got a whole bunch of decent soups...

Between you and me though, I've never particularly cared for stroganov, but everything else? I miss a lot.

We are a bunch of ragtag survivors, that's for sure...

That's a perfect way of putting it. I also really miss the food, too.

The city of amusement and escapades! Of theatres and parks where one can breathe in life with every breath one takes! Indeed, my beloved Paris -- Are you a Parisienne at heart, it will embrace you like a true friend does.

The food ought to be an easier problem to solve, I'd think.

If she did her job and kept you as safe and happy as possible, then that's what matters, isn't it? Unless you have particularly bad memories of her.

Tell me about it.

I guess part of it is that anything that was good is gone along with the terrible things. And all those things make up a home.

Oh, no, nothing truly terrible. I was a stubborn little troublemaker, though. You can see why we may have clashed from time to time.

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