Standing at a petite 5'3", her disposition settles somewhere between kind and non threatening based off of looks. Her skin is a flawless milky shade of alabaster with cool undertones that gives her an ethereal, ghostly appearance. It has a silky smooth texture, only aiding that flawlessness. Her features are as soft as her skin, delicately defined with feminine grace. With a heart shaped face, Josephine has high cheekbones, gently sloping down into a softened jawline and slender neck.

Josephine's nose is just as delicate as the rest of her. It's straight, but as it nears the tip it begins to arch slightly upwards, giving her that so sought after button nosed look. Accentuating her sharp, well defined brows are cat like eyes, always watching and waiting for her moment to strike. Long lashes encapsulates them, the lengthy strands perfect for fluttering and batting.Their chilly color is that of hard steel, bold and unwavering. A gaze so cold and intense that it's almost terrifying. Many find it a struggle to stare into that calculated gaze for too long in fear that might just devour them whole. The kicker? She just might.

Atop that head held high falls waves of whiskey colored loose ringlet curls that end at the small of Josephine's back. Shades of red, copper, and warm brown linger throughout the strands, creating a sea of fiery warmth. Not an ounce of frizz is present if she can help it, with each curl holding a soft, satiny feel to it. Each curl is meticulously taken care of, crafted around her face to further accentuate her lovely features. Her hair is her prized feature, with much time and care going into keeping it soft and healthy. It's often left down, giving it what little freedom and untamed beauty it can have.

Josephine's frame isn't anything impressive when it comes to strength. She's lithe, her body thin and soft. She has narrow shoulders with a defined neck and collarbones. Her hips are wide and her thighs thick, giving her a pear shape that aids the sass and confidence in her walk. Without a doubt her hips will effortlessly sway. Some would say she has a sense of arrogance, but it couldn't be further from the truth. Her hands, while small and dainty, have the same cat-likeness as her eyes. She keeps her nails somewhat long and well manicured, with the tips filed into an almond shape. The skin is rather soft as well, though her fingertips are calloused, suggesting the idea that she plays a stringed instrument.

The voice that comes from such a small woman is hauntingly soft. It's of gentle tone, dripping with a sweetness of honey when she pleases. That is not to say that it cannot demand attention, however. It can be just as sharp as it is sweet. It is a voice that can lull you to sleep or wake an entire army given the path that is chosen.

Josephine is an intimidating figure to talk to. She looks as though she'd kill with a single glance, but that'd hardly be the case. She isn't very outgoing, nor is she friendly, but she's not unfriendly either. Striking up a conversation with the lass isn't hard, but it is hard to keep her talking rather than just listening. She may not be the best speaker, but she can lend the best of ears to anyone needing to vent and speak from the heart.

Devote and honest, Josephine is a genuine person who fears not what another thinks of her. Once you get in good with her, she'll give you all of her time and loyalty that she has to spare. Not many people can get past the walls that she has built, but once it's done, she'll do anything to protect those people. She's not one for lies, either. She can be bluntly honest, telling the truth when it perhaps should not be told in completeness. If it is meant to be said, she cares not for how it'll make another feel. She'll try her best to be gentle, but it does not always work out in that manner.

She is assertive and cautious, taking heed in everything that she does. She'd much rather cut right to the chase, avoiding any and all hiccups if possible. It would be correct to say that's she's a wary woman, jaded and exhausted by the trauma of the world. She's not afraid to voice her opinion or point out exactly what she wants despite being a quiet and generally soft spoken girl. She doesn't mind taking control of certain situations and putting herself out there when others may not please to do so.

She may protect those that hold her heart with her life, but she's not as forgiving to those who have wronged her. Her patient and giving nature is not to be taken advantage of or for granted. It's one of the quickest ways to lose her as a friend. She'll do anything for you and ask for nothing in return, but do not use and manipulate someone with such a heart of gold.

She enjoys getting to do things for others, and loves even more when she's given the same energy back. In truth She's a simple woman and doesn't ask for much other than someone who will care for her like she does them.

Quiet and observant, Josephine prefers to watch others from the corner of the room. without much to say, she spends her time studying others and their actions. She enjoys getting to know them from the outside in, should they be worth the knowing. She reads people like she reads a book, learning every little tell that she can pick up and why it is something that shows itself. She often will notice things that go unnoticed by the general populace, giving her a heads up to anything that might amidst.

Prince Anastasia "Kova" Alexeivich Volkova

"In a world that demands strength, weakness is a luxury I cannot afford."

Name Pronunciation:

anne-UH-staye-zee-UH, "KOH-vah", ahl-EX-AYE-vitch, vohl-KOH-vah

Age:

22

Gender:

Cisgender Male

Voice Claim:

Kurt Cobain (Pitched Down Slightly)

Sexuality:

Abrosexual,

Demirose

Appearance and Personality:

Volkova presents a striking and formidable presence, particularly highlighted by the distinctive features that reflect his upbringing. His appearance is notably marked by his exceptionally pale skin, inherited from his father, which takes on an almost ethereal quality, especially in contrast to the vibrant hues of summer. During the snowy months, Volkova manages to blend in with the frosty landscape; however, with the arrival of warmer weather, his inability to tan becomes glaringly apparent, setting him apart from his peers.

Inheriting his mother’s nearly white blonde hair, which is styled into a fluffy mullet cut with a blade, Volkova’s hair frames his angular face. This hairstyle adds to his unique charm and complements his striking features. His icy blue eyes, reminiscent of glaciers, are perhaps his most captivating attribute. These piercing eyes, cold and striking, reflect an intensity and depth that can be both intimidating and alluring.

Volkova is recognized throughout his kingdom not only for his facial features but also for his impressive physique. Standing tall at 6 feet 2 inches and weighing 184 pounds, he possesses a lean yet robust build. His muscles, more functional than decorative, enable him to surprise and overpower opponents who might underestimate his strength. His physique can be likened to that of a panther—graceful yet powerful, embodying an elegance that belies his strength. Despite his athletic build, he is not merely skinny; rather, he maintains a level of fitness that showcases his commitment to physical prowess.

In terms of attire, Volkova opts for a style that underscores his preference for simplicity and practicality. When not required to wear formal clothes, he is often seen in warm, thin turtlenecks, general high-necked fasion, placid button-up shirts, or work tops typically accustomed to that of the lower class layered beneath jackets and uniform tops, and occasionally opting for sleeker leather options, paired with black pants and tall boots or dress shoes. During the warmer months, he favors slightly oversized t-shirts and long black pants, maintaining a cohesive color palette of grayscale and dark neutrals.

In more relaxed settings, his wardrobe may shift to softer, plusher garments, or he may don just undergarments with a removed coat, yet all items still adhere to his understated color choices. When dressed formally, Volkova adorns himself with minimal accessories, typically just a simple black stud in his right ear and a plain black band around his left middle finger. His choice to eschew excessive jewelry speaks to his philosophy regarding personal adornment; he believes in the futility of embellishing oneself with superfluous items, finding such practices frivolous.

Volkova's personal style is a reflection of his character—calm, collected, and unembellished. While he may dress simply, his personality is anything but mundane. He exudes confidence and charisma, traits that draw others to him despite his unassuming attire. His disdain for ostentation in fashion indicates a deeper understanding of substance over style, and he remains steadfast in his belief that true worth lies beyond the superficial adornments of life.

Much like one would expect from his demeanor and appearance, Kova presents a sharp, intimidating, and striking figure, embodying a demeanor that leaves little room for softness or vulnerability. This carefully curated image is not a mere façade; it is a reflection of a life shaped by necessity and survival. Despite growing up in a privileged environment, characterized by wealth and a relative absence of crime, Kova learned the harsh realities of life in a way that many of his peers could never comprehend. His upbringing, juxtaposed with the expectations placed upon him by his family and society, cultivated a persona that is both ruthless and quick-witted.

From an early age, Kova was acutely aware of the expectations that accompanied his social status. His family often remarked that he was destined for a life in Hatilly, among what they referred to as the "poor, quiet, livestock-working freaks." This derogatory characterization only fueled Kova's determination to defy the limitations and stereotypes imposed upon him. He internalized these sentiments, channeling them into a fierce resolve to carve out his own identity, one that was wholly separate from the privileges he enjoyed.

Kova's personality is multifaceted and layered. While he may often be perceived as emotionless by those who do not know him well, this assessment overlooks the complexity of his character. He has mastered the art of communication through minimalism, speaking only when necessary and choosing his words with precision. This deliberate restraint adds an air of mystery to his presence, compelling others to decipher the depths of his character. Those who take the time to engage with him often discover a sharp intellect and a dry sense of humor that punctuates his otherwise stoic exterior.

His interactions are marked by a keen observation of the world around him. Kova possesses an innate ability to read people and situations, which he uses to his advantage in both social and combative contexts. His quick wit often manifests in sarcastic retorts that catch others off guard, revealing a playful side that contrasts with his otherwise serious demeanor. This juxtaposition of attributes creates an intriguing dynamic, drawing people in while simultaneously keeping them at arm's length.

Furthermore, Kova’s approach to conflict—be it verbal or physical—reflects a deep-seated belief in the necessity of strength and resilience. He has honed his skills in both theft and fighting, not out of a desire for wealth or power, but as a means of survival in a world that often feels hostile and unforgiving. This survivalist mentality is intricately woven into his identity, influencing his decisions and shaping his worldview.

Kova is a complex individual shaped by his experiences and the expectations of those around him. While he may project an image of indifference and emotional detachment, beneath this veneer lies a rich tapestry of thoughts, feelings, and motivations. To truly understand Kova is to recognize the intricacies of his character—a man forged in the fires of expectation, survival, and the relentless pursuit of self-definition. His journey illustrates the struggle between societal norms and personal identity, a theme that resonates deeply within his life narrative.

Strengths:

Determination

From a young age, Kova was acutely aware of the expectations tied to his social status. This determination to change the opinions of his family on him is a cornerstone of Kova's character, driving him to carve out an identity that is independent from the privileges he was afforded. His perseverance in the face of adversity has become a defining trait, allowing him to navigate challenges with unwavering focus.

Self-Control and Emotionlessness

Kova exhibits exceptional self-control, and has an ability to manage his emotions and maintain a composure that also adds to his intimidating presence. This deliberate restraint not only enhances his mystique but also serves as a powerful tool in his interactions, allowing him to remain level-headed even in high-pressure situations.

Aloofness and Guardedness

Kova's aloofness and guarded nature contribute to the intrigue surrounding him. While he often keeps others at a distance, this distance allows him to observe and analyze situations and people with a keen eye. His ability to read the room enables him to adapt to various social dynamics.

Skill in Combat

Kova's combat skills are characterized by a combination of quick reflexes and strategic thinking. He is adept at using his environment to his advantage, making him a formidable opponent, verbally, mentally, and even in true combat. He also hones the unique ability to be able to quickly adapt to and learn how to use any weapon given to him within near-minutes.

Weaknesses:

Emotionlessness

Kova, while presenting a sharp and intimidating figure, is not without his vulnerabilities. Beneath his tough exterior lies a complex tapestry of weaknesses that shape his interactions and decisions. His perceived emotionlessness, often mistaken for strength, reveals a deeper struggle with expressing and processing emotions. This detachment from feelings can lead to misunderstandings and a sense of isolation from those around him.

Hatred of Touch and Physical Affection

One of Kova's most pronounced weaknesses is his aversion to touch and physical affection. This deep-seated hatred for physical closeness stems from a fear of vulnerability. Kova associates touch with potential betrayal or emotional entanglement, causing him to push away those who attempt to connect with him. This barrier not only limits his ability to form meaningful relationships but also reinforces his sense of loneliness.

Weak Mental Stability

Kova's mental stability is another area of concern. The pressures of his upbringing and the expectations placed upon him have contributed to a fragile psyche. He often grapples with inner turmoil, which can manifest as anxiety or bouts of anger. While he may appear composed on the outside, the constant struggle to maintain control leads to occasional outbursts that reveal his underlying instability.

Harsh Nature

His harsh nature is also a significant weakness. Kova's ruthless persona, cultivated as a defense mechanism, often alienates those around him. His tendency to be overly critical and unforgiving creates a barrier to empathy and understanding. This harshness can result in conflicts that could otherwise be avoided, leading to a cycle of isolation and bitterness.

Slight Narcissism

A slight tendency towards narcissism adds another layer to Kova's weaknesses. His focus on self-preservation and identity can sometimes border on self-absorption. This inclination leads him to prioritize his needs and perceptions over the feelings and experiences of others. While this self-focus can drive him to succeed in certain areas, it ultimately hinders his ability to connect on a deeper level with those around him.

Affiliations:

TBD

Theme Song:

Sarcasm - Get Scared

"Don't mind us, we're just spilling our guts

if this is love, I don't want to be loved"

Other:

-

Ana hates being called by his first name, and goes by "Kova" because it was a nickname given to him by his best friend when he was very young, and it stuck with him. He dislikes his first name because it is feminine, and also because his abusive father chose it - when Ana turned 18, he changed his last name from the male derived "Volkov" to the female derived "Volkova" to honor his late mother.

Anastasia had never been fond of marriage. Or love in general, really. The entire notion seemed frivolous, a distraction from more meaningful pursuits. The pomp and circumstance of weddings, the expectations, the performances—it all felt hollow. Love, at its best, seemed fleeting, and at its worst, a trap.

For now, he was content where he sat, perched on a smooth boulder in the royal gardens. The stone was warm under him, holding the day's heat even as the sun dipped low on the horizon. Quartz sat to his right, shoulder pressing companionably against his, shredding a piece of grass into ribbons with his nimble fingers. Vincent lay sprawled across both of their laps, his chest rising and falling in a deep, snoring rhythm that made Quartz chuckle quietly every so often. The trio looked like an odd tableau against the backdrop of the garden, framed by the setting sun’s amber light as it streaked through the twisted branches of ancient trees.

Anastasia held a chunk of mahogany in his left hand, his right working a stolen blade with precision, carving the faint outline of a dragon. The rich, dark wood wasn’t native to the sub-arctic mountains surrounding Yamiire. Only pine, spruce, and birch thrived in the unforgiving climate. The mahogany had been imported—ostensibly for the kingdom’s master woodworkers, though Ana had a knack for acquiring pieces for himself. He’d traded trinkets, favors, and once even a half-broken sapphire ring to secure enough to fuel his hobby.

The first time his father had discovered one of his creations—a wolf with intricate fur detailing and eyes that gleamed with a spark of life—he’d smashed it to pieces in a fit of rage. Since then, Ana had learned to keep his art hidden, tucking his tools and works-in-progress away in places the king would never think to look. Most recently, he’d taken to stashing them in Razalith.

Razalith was a town at the base of the mountain, south of Yamiire. Its reputation was one of infamy, known less for its culture or beauty and more for its crime. Theft, brawls, and even murders were commonplace there. Yet to Ana, it was a haven. It was where Quartz and Vincent had grown up, and it was where he had learned to fend for himself—to fight, survive, and adapt. The lawlessness of Razalith was a sharp contrast to Yamiire’s polished, near-crimeless society. As a royal, Ana was a target no matter where he went, and Razalith had offered him a chance to grow strong against those who sought to exploit him.

Not that his father approved. Anastasia was forbidden from visiting Razalith, a decree enforced by his ever-watchful personal guard, Lucius. The man was pale, dark-haired, and as emotionless as a stone gargoyle. No matter how sly Ana thought he was being, Lucius always seemed to find him. As if on cue, Ana’s ears caught the faintest shuffle of boots against gravel.

"I can hear you breathing, Lucius," Ana muttered without looking up. His voice carried the sharp edge of irritation, though his hands never stopped carving. Quartz glanced at him, startled, but Vincent continued snoring.

Lucius stepped out from the shadowed trees, his expression unreadable. "Your presence is requested in the throne room," he said coldly.

Ana scoffed, finally pausing his work to glance up at the man. "Requested? By whom?"

"Your father," Lucius replied, his tone clipped and formal.

Ana let out a humorless laugh. "Not a request, then. A summons." He rose to his feet, the movement unceremoniously dumping Vincent onto Quartz’s lap. Vincent grumbled incoherently, still half-asleep, while Quartz gave Ana a sympathetic look.

"You two should head home," Ana said, brushing wood shavings from his tunic. "This will likely take all night. Another one of his lectures, no doubt."

Quartz nodded, adjusting Vincent over his shoulder with ease. The two disappeared down the garden path, leaving Ana alone with Lucius. Without sparing his guard another glance, Ana strode toward the palace, his steps firm and deliberate. The halls were dimly lit, servants and courtiers parting wordlessly as he passed. He didn’t bother acknowledging them. They were background noise in a life he had never wanted.

Lucius followed, his presence an irritating shadow.

"Clingy bastard," Ana muttered under his breath.

When he reached the throne room, he pushed the heavy doors open with enough force to make them groan on their hinges. The court, gathered in clusters along the walls, fell silent at his arrival. At the far end of the room sat King Anthony, his posture stiff on the gleaming, jewel-encrusted throne that Ana hated with every fiber of his being.

"Anthony," Ana said, his voice ringing through the chamber. "What is the meaning of this summons?"

The king’s jaw tightened. Ana could see the flicker of irritation in his father’s eyes—a small victory.

"You have another opportunity to marry," Anthony said, his tone measured but firm.

Ana’s expression darkened. The faint trace of amusement in his eyes vanished. "No," he said simply. "I will not. I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. I refuse."

"It is not your choice, Anastasia!"

"Do not call me by that horrific name," Ana snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut. "Or so help me, I will carve the voice from your throat."

The court gasped collectively, their shock rippling through the room like a wave. Ana rolled his eyes. What about today made them so sensitive? He’d threatened his father before, and they hadn’t so much as flinched. Then he realized his mistake.

The knife was still in his hand.

He tucked it away swiftly, sliding it into the folds of his tunic.

Anthony cleared his throat, trying to reassert control. "Kova, this is for the good of your kingdom. Can you not set aside your defiance, at least for Yamiire?"

Ana’s laughter was bitter, humorless. "I don’t give two shits about Yamiire," he said, turning on his heel. "Find someone else to chain to your throne."

He stormed out of the room, leaving the stunned silence of the court behind him. The heavy doors swung shut, the echo reverberating through the chamber like a final note of defiance.