Anastazja Romanov

[Anastazja Romanov]

Owoooooooo! Who's that I see walkin' in these woods?
Why, it's Little Red Riding Hood. Hey there Little Red Riding Hood,
You sure are looking good. You're everything a big bad wolf could want.

[/i]

Name: Anastazja Marie Romanov
Age: 25
Race: Vampire

Abilities:

• Heightened senses
  
• Supernatural speed
  
• Telepathy
  

Weaknesses:

• Allergic to sunlight
  
• Self-loathing
  
• Vengeful
  

Appearance:

Standing a petite 5'4" and weighing in at 120 pounds, Anastazja might seem like she isn't much help in a fight, however you'd be wrong. Dead wrong. The dark haired female tends to keep her hair fairly closely cropped, rarely ever having her hair passed her shoulders. Long hair gets in the way, and she hates things that get in her way, and sets out to destroy it. Ana possesses a pair of deep brown eyes that when set on someone, can chill them to the core, or warm their hearts. She has a vicious temper and her swagger often dictates a very "Don't f**k with me" sort of air.

Anastazja has several tattoos on her person, the most noticeable of which is a tattoo on her back that reads "Believe" above which a set of eyes. A few other tattoos litter her body. Anastazja also has a number of piercings, including her tongue, and her ears three times each.

Her clothing style is fairly dull at times. Her outfits are pretty staple. Teeshirts and jeans, tank tops and leather pants. You won't find Anastazja in a dress unless you paid, and paid well. She wears clothing that is form fitting, and doesn't get in her way.

Personality:

Normally Ana is quiet and leaves most people alone, though she has a fairly quick temper and often goes off for sometimes no reason at all. Anastazja is true to her Russian roots, with the temper and her taste for expensive liquor.

Anastazja has a slightly abrasive personality at times, and she finds herself fighting nearly everyday, just to find the one who embraced her, giving her this curse that she bares today.

History:

Born on June 10th, 1983, to Renee and Nikolai Romanov. Anastazja would be the only child the pair would have due to Sadie being diagnosed shortly after the birth of Anastazja, with Ovarian and Cervical cancer.

Anastazja had a pretty good childhood, other than seeing her mother sick most of the time due to cancer treatments, such as pills, shots, and finally a partial hysterectomy. Sadie tried her best to keep Anastazja happy, and thankfully, Anastazja was a good child and understood that there was more to life than just her. Perhaps her mom being sick made her this way.

On Anastazja’s first birthday, she received a gift from her father that would start a slight obsession for her in her later years. A porcelain Dresden doll. A gorgeous doll, expensive, yet entirely worth the price. At a year and a half old, Anastazja spoke her first word, that being ‘Mine’ and in reference to her mother, when she was cuddling with her.

At the age of six, Anastazja started school, quickly finding out that she would enjoy learning, especially reading, writing, and music time. She detested math right off the bat, but suffered through it, in order to get to what she considered the ‘fun stuff’.

Nothing really eventful took place between the ages six and ten, other than the introduction of friends, the loss of others, and more schooling. At the age of ten, a new neighbor moved in next door. The LeBeau family. Of which, they had a child near her age, just two years older. A boy child, who Anastazja became instantly infatuated with.

Of course a twelve year old boy was not at all interested in a ‘little girl’ and Jason often teased Anastazja about not being able to play the older kid games. And she quickly grew infuriated with him, throwing a right tantrum.

Anastazja survived the boy’s torment for another two years, until she, herself was twelve. Then in a game of kickball, Anastazja won against all boys. Jason looked at her different then. Anastazja was rough and tough, but still very classy at times. She was beginning to be something of a mystery to Jason, and the boy always did love a good mystery.

Anastazja and Jason started to spend a lot of time together, and Jason became her greatest confidante.

At the age of fourteen, Anastazja’s mother took a turn for the worst. Her cancer came back, what once was in remission had lifted back to life, and was attacking Sadie’s body full swing. The doctors were thinking of Chemotherapy, but there wasn’t enough time.. It was either a full hysterectomy or death for Sadie Johnson. And the choice was made.

Anastazja was terrified that her mother, while still undergoing the surgery, was going to die. She snuck out in the middle of the night, and climbed up the vine stack that was overgrown with the greenery it was meant to straighten, and disappeared into Jason’s bedroom. Jason held her all through the night that night, while she cried, and explained, and cried more.

This time, there was no cruel teasing from the boy, no.. This time he was silent, and genuinely sad for the girl whom he had come to cherish.

For a while, all seemed right with the world.

But then, Anastazja’s parents returned home, and not finding their daughter in her bed, panicked, though soon saw her in the bedroom next door, as they looked out the window. Immediately they were enraged. Sadie was sent to rest, while Stephen marched himself across the lawn and to the LeBeau’s home, screaming at the parents of the boy for allowing their corruptible ways tarnish his little girl.

You see, Stephen and Sadie didn’t like the neighbors, because they owned Burlesque clubs. Such sinful things indeed. And Jason was their son, and in such, he was evil, and definitely not the type for their daughter to be hanging out with.

And as any rebellious girl will do, Anastazja began dating Jason soon after her 15th birthday. Their relationship continued until at the age of 20, Anastazja became pregnant. Everything was perfect, right?

It should have been.

Late one night, after a particularly hard day, working as a waitress for a local diner, Anastazja was walking to her car, and was attacked.

The man drew her back, and bit into her flesh. Anastazja felt her whole world slipping away, and she shook her head begging for her life.. begging for the life of her child, though those pleas fell on deaf ears, and she was left there, in the alleyway.

Five years later, Anastazja is out for blood. Literally. Five years into her vampiric life, Anastazja finds that she doesn't quite like ripping someone's life apart, and takes only what she needs from human... just enough to survive, never more than they could live without. Enough to keep her strong, enough to keep her fighting another day to reach the man who created her. A Monster.

Other Notes:

Insert Information Here

RP Sample: (From another site)

Another day, another dollar, another fix. Strolling the streets of Los Angeles, especially in this era, it wasn’t hard. You could find the high-end, which was worth the price, the mid-level end, which was mediocre, and if you were really in a financial crunch (and who isn’t?) there was the low-end. You did your thing with the low-end, and you prayed you didn’t die.

Ah yes. Religion was found out there in the thicket of the depression. The land of the Lost Angels. Prayer. You prayed you wouldn’t get robbed on your way to the store. You prayed you wouldn’t disappear on your way home. For Olivia, she only prayed she could scrape enough together for another night in the flea-bag roach motel and one more fix.

”Name your poison, Sweetheart.”

The old and the young alike slung dope like it was butterscotch drops in your gramma's purse, other than that, the other constant, was liquor.

Water might be a bit stagnant, but baby, you could get your 40 ounce with no problem. And it never tasted as sweet as it did then. And for those with more acquired tastes, any establishment in town would have your vodka, tequila, or whatever else ya needed.

With fingers curled around the neck of a bottle, and a sigh, Olivia grunted as she swallowed back another swig from the bottle of piss-warm beer. She had peeled the label away hours ago, to alleviate a bit of boredom, and remnants of silver and white remained stuck to the glue base.

Someone before mentioned to her that it was worse before. They told her about the bodies in the street and people stealing corpses just to feed their families.

Olivia wasn’t surprised. Did they think that this dark plague only happened here? Or did they have some bit of hope that if they could free themselves of the clutch the pregnant dog known as L.A had them in, that it would be happy days and sunshine elsewhere?

Olivia watched the rest of the world a moment.

Poor fools, she thought as she stopped near a couple. The woman was clutching a postcard from Hawaii. It showed a sunny day, white sand, and a sunbather in an orange bathing suit, her toes dangling in the crystalline water.

A happier time, possibly, but not now.

The woman seemed more interested in what was written on the reverse side, rather than the false advertisement on the front. A single tear rolled down her left cheek, as Olivia watched on, though her body shook.

No more tears left to cry, Olivia surmised, and pulled the loaf of bread from her bag. So much for dinner tonight, she thought with a sigh, as she moved closer to the couple. She nodded a greeting, and stooped to a crouch. She ran her thumb down the woman’s cheek, smudging dirt away, and gave a brief smile.

”It won’t rain all the time,” She told the woman. ”The Sky won’t fall forever, and though the night seems long, your tears won’t fall forever.” She spoke the words to a song she liked from her favorite movie. It seemed fitting here.

The woman smiled up at her, and Olivia stood, handing the bread to the woman’s companion. She turned and walked down the street a bit, before looking back just once. She saw the couple hungrily devouring the bread, and sharing bits with a skinny dog that had come out from behind them.

Her thoughts were interrupted with the growl of her stomach, and she patted the cotton covered flesh. ”Not tonight. She smiled despite herself. She had done a good deed, and in moments would negate the fact, with another bump of coke, and a couple cc’s of heroin. A thingytail of death, and she prayed it would work this time.*

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