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@svetavorshevsky
These are links to information you can read regarding Svetlana Vorshevsky. The full navigation has a more extensive list, however, the most prominent ones are listed below. (click anywhere on the sentences to be directed.)
Sveta’s full navigation.
Sveta’s full biography.
Sveta’s connections page.
Sveta’s friendships page.
Sveta’s timeline breakdown page. (under construction.)
Sveta’s NPC’s. (in progress)
Tolya really didn't have any expectations, as for him - anyone was a good choice. It would have only changed the dynamic of the kind of night it was going to be. Yet, with Sveta being Russian and married, it almost turned out to be the worst choice. "I'm going to have to, otherwise we're just stuck having dinner and where's the fun in that?"
"The theatre is a great rendezvous..." brow tipping upwards. "All I'm thinking is...all the big heads are going to be out of London, and we have the entire city to ourselves for the evening — " the smile was telling, nothing akin to true delight sat there beyond a wild fascination that brewed. "A lot of places are going to be empty." and left for them to do as they pleased.
"Or we can hang at the abandoned theatre all night, who knows...maybe you'll surprise me." Svetlana's head tilted, why so serious, she wanted to chide. "Start looking less broody..." she was only teasing for her own damn entertainment. "before I cut a smile into that handsome face of yours."
FOR: @tolyaveselov WHEN: Post reveals.
"A night with me, you must be thrilled, Tolya." The corner of her lip barely scratched a smile, or a smirk. "Are you bringing that Tolya-esque basement vibes I'm all too used to...or will I have to make it fun for us?"
SVETLANA VORSHEVSKY: valentine's day auction, 2026.
Escorted by: Pavel.
SVETLANA VORSHEVSKY | AS CARRIE. HALLOWEEN 2025.
FOR: @mobscene-starters OPEN TO: ALL. WHEN: October, 2025. WHERE: Babylon Bar & Lounge. Enfield, London.
"The seats taken, so, feel free to park your ass anywhere...but there."
SELF PARA: PART ONE.
ft. @maksimkurylenko
"It'd be a favor to me," Maksim's voice droned on the other end of the phone "I know you're good at getting people to do what you say." he finished.
"That was Miami. Here? My pull isn't...it's not the same, Maksim." As infuriating as it was, Svetlana had long gotten used to being underestimated by the opposition. Picking at the invisible lint on her clothes, she let out a bored sigh. "Besides, have you run this past Konstantin?"
"It's fine, I can find someone else." Maksim offered.
A beat passed by, and silence echoed. She smiled. Still a child, still reckless. Tut, tut.
"I didn't say I wouldn't do it Maksim." Svetlana paused. "Patience, cousin."
Olivier Fontaine, brother of Thomas Fontaine.
"This has nothing to do with the woman you were bedding, does it? I have no time for your petty personal affairs."
Maksim scoffed in response, earning a raised brow.
Don't push it.
"The man's Delphine's bodyguard, like, I mean...how much does he hear? See? Just on a standard fuckin' day-to-day basis," hands were in the air, passionate or frustrated? She couldn't tell, and she didn't care; she denied him a response. "That information would be..." he laughed. "Life-altering. No, fuck -- life changing for us, Svet. If we can get to their bodyguards. We can get to them all."
"You are rather annoying," Sveta said, bored. Although her interest had been peaked. The way her eyes watched him, looking for a sign of information he'd decided to leave out. All seemed...okay.
"You act like this is new information, Svet. And you can talk, annoyance is your middle name. Is it not?"
She paused until her eyes found him. Cold, disinterested and above all else...a quiet anger pooled. "Careful." This time? It was quiet, deadly and overall -- a warning. She hated facetime more than life itself.
Svetlana's patience would only wear so much before the band snapped. Family or no family, that anger cooled for no one. Not even her husband. And Maksim seemed to finally take note of the change in her tone, the flatness.
"Look, I just...I think we're missing an opportunity. I've seen the guy out and about recently; he's looking for his brother. Wants to know information really badly."
"Do you think his brother would assist?"
"Thomas? That...I don't know."
"Find out. And when we take him, we'll leave a gift for Delphine and Varden."
FOR: @konstantinvorshevsky WHEN: October, 2025. WHERE: Maksim's New (unopened) Bar.
"I'm pretty sure he's a streamlined advertisement for birth control," Sveta spoke loud enough, so that Maksim might soon realise she was talking about him. "But, then again, my opinion is known to be...subjective." Sveta's smirk, ice cold, tilted into something akin to a predatory smile. "He's been rather irksome recently."
Natalie Dormer
FOR: @viktoriya-kurylenko EVENT: Fight Club 2025 LOCATION: The Underground. Post fights.
"It seems one of us is far better trained than the other," Sveta's face told the story just as much as her failure in the ring had been public. Every time she looked in the mirror, she'd be reminded of how she lost to Elaina and embarrased the Vorsehvsky name. "You on the other hand..." hands raising into a slow clap.
FOR: @tolyaveselov EVENT: Fight Club 2025 LOCATION: The Underground. Post Elaina & Sveta fight.
"That didn't go as I planned," not at all. A snort followed, as she picked up two cold drinks and offered one to him. "I'm gonna require you and Aviv to provide me with some training..." because now she realised there was a chance she looked weak to those in the crowd. An easy god damn target. "Any chance you'll say yes?"
Óscar hadn't meant to end up on the Russian side of the room. One of the first consequences of his dangerous flirtation earlier. Yet, he got caught watching the fight between the French and Russian girls he didn't know. Blinking wildly at how much they had wanted to kill each other. Even the phrase 'stay dead' still echoing in his ear. Only to stop once he heard an angry voice suddenly below him. Not meant for him, of course not. But, caught in the crossfire, Óscar held up his hands in mock surrender saying, "Da."
Rutherford. Svetlana had seen him around, clocked him in unofficial meetings she'd been in attendance for, but rarely uttered a word. She wasn't one for letting her emotions slip so casually: usually locked away. Only for Pavel and those closest to her to witness, unless they were locked in the basement. Lips pressing into a thin line, she sighed through flared nostrils. What a fucking shit show! "...Okay." the crinkle of her brows is unexpected, she hadn't been expecting that answer. "Why are you here?" though, amusement lit blue eyes, head tilting to the side again. "You seem a little...how do I say it, out of your comfort zone on this side of the room, dorogoy."
@svetavorshevsky Event: Fight Club 2025 / post Elaina v. Svetlana fight
The fight had been difficult to watch—painful, even—particularly with Elaina involved. As though the spectacle weren’t savage enough on its own, they had felt the need to throw untrained women into the ring for added entertainment.
“I can’t believe you actually went through with it,” Lyudmila said, the concern in her voice unmistakable as she offered the Russian woman an iced drink. Whether Svetlana would press it to her bruised lip or simply drink it was left entirely to her discretion.
"Men get drafted for war, they are thrown into the ring with little knowledge, or chance." she'd at least had some. "Though, i will adit that I thought I'd come out of this a little better off." Every movement Sveta had made post fight, the shifting of her dress against bruised ribs: the reminder that she'd just lost in the ring. Her face, however, was tell-tale enough with the throbbing that took place. Like her lip might burst if she laughed or smiled. Fuck, it hurt. But when she'd spotted Mila after she'd walked out, it was where she'd beelined.
Svetlana took the drink, knuckles dusted with blood—some hers, some Elaina’s. Her lip was split, could feel it as she winched when she took a sip. The cold both helped and hurt.
That was something.
She was used to being on the winning side.
"Kosta made me aware that this would be my final fight club." taking another sip, she hummed. "I'll do as I'm told--" but there was a vengeance in her now. “Elaina didn’t hold back,” she added, almost to herself. “Meant every hit.” Sveta should've been more prepared. She turned away, pressing the glass to her jaw, where a bloom of purple was already forming “Let them call it a show. Let Yves make clever fuckin' jokes. Their victory will be short lived, I'm sure.” They knew loss just like they did.
"How're you holding up?"
The tone was unappreciated, and as he watched her silently for a lengthy moment—cold eyes narrowed, but expression unreadable—he knew she would regret it quicker than he could address what had just unfolded.
"There is a reason we do not fight unless victory is assured."
Tonight was a good night to be a Vorshevsky instead of a Kurylenko, it seemed. At least so far as his cousin was concerned... The Russian's reaction wouldn't have been nearly as measured otherwise.
"That was the first and last time I see you in the ring."
The second she caught wind of the fact that her slip had been realised, showed Sveta bowing her head. She was one thing, amongst the many: loyal. Which meant the tongue had spoken before her mind had been able to regulate. One did not talk out of turn to Konstantin Vorshevsky, even if he was her family. The narrow of his eyes was met with an apology in her own.
"I understand."
She would never outright say the words though, no, that wasn't her.
"Lara has had her fun, I did not get mine." her own gaze following to the balcony that reared her up like some ephemeral princess, and the peasants who wandered below. "But I believe I'll settle any further issues outside of the ring."
But he was mistaken if he thought she wouldn't amp up her training now. She couldn't help herself, looking for Aviv and Tolya. She'd be cornering them later to put the plans into motion. "This ring, you mean..." her head cocking to the side, before a daunting realisation kicked in. "You have no belief that I can get better?"
"How about several? My English isn't perfect, but I'm sure even I can think of a few synonyms for fucking embarrassing. Your mother's swan dive was less tragic."
"The swan dive would've at least been done gracefully, unlike you people." There were many words to describe Yves, though none were colourful enough to be used tonight. “I'll remind you, people send me in when they want someone to disappear.” Though, unfortunately, she'd had to return her last two play things. "Don't make me add you to my list." though gone was anguish, instead her smile was cold, non-emotional. He was added.
Unlikely. "What do you want from the bar?"
Sveta knew what was coming from Kosta, but settling her gaze upon the younger brother brought some sense of relaxation to those knotted muscles. "Vodka. Neat." though, now she sounded...deflated. "Might as well get us the bottle." And she meant that. "I'm gonna' need it."
FOR: @mobscene-starters EVENT: Fight Club, 2025. WHERE: The Underground. Post Sveta & Elaina fight.
"I don't want to fuckin' hear it. Don't say a word, da?"
