Odessa A’zion, 24, cisgender female, she/they ; ] … the photo on the missing poster is of ANASTASIA "ANYA" ROMANOV EKATERINA KOVALCHUK . they are TWENTY SIX, and have been missing for NINE YEARS . when the sun rises, they work as a BARBER. rumors in town say they can be CYNICAL and ALTRUISTIC. they chose to live at THE DOCKS and have an uncanny resemblance to Maeby Fünke - Arrested Development, Victoria Page - The Red Shoes (1948), Susie Bannion - Suspiria (2018) can they survive another night ?…⸻ bloody pointe shoes, nag champa incense wafting through ratty curtain filtered sunlight, a secondhand grand piano.
Name: Anastasia "Anya" Romanov
Alias: Anya, Ana, Nastenka
Gender/Pronouns: Female, She/They
Age: 26
Birthdate: 12/15
Big Three: Sagittarius, Scorpio, Aquarius
Occupation: Barber
Height: 5'5"
Known Languages: English, Russian, Esperanto
Hometown: Manhattan, New York City
Residence: The Docks
Family: Viktor Kovalchuk (father)
Friends: tba
Relationship Status: single
Sexuality: pansexual
Other Relationships:
Character Inspiration: Maeby Fünke - Arrested Development, Victoria Page - The Red Shoes (1948), Carrie Bradshaw - Sex in the City, Susie Bannion - Suspiria (2018), Liz Lemon - 30Rock
Biography
tw: abuse (mental and physical), forced disordered eating
Anya, Ekaterina Kovalchuk, was born into the looming gilded halls of privilege. New York’s upper echelon. The only child of a powerful businessman, Viktor Kovalchuk. A man whose shadow constantly loomed over her as much as his wealth. But just underneath the surface of luxury was a start marked by tragedy. Her mother, a brilliant but fairly reclusive artist — had passed while giving birth to Anya. Giving her a sense of guilt that was never hers to bear. It cast a shadow over her life. Her father, ruthless and influential, only saw Anya as an extension of himself. A mere reflection of his wild ambitions.
She grew up in a sprawling penthouse with an incredible view of a city she was never allowed to explore. Her schedule was meticulously curated. Nannies and tutors. Warmth, love, suspiciously absent. Viktor always avoided discussing the subject of her mother; offering no solace to his daughter. Bearing the brunt of his grief. He poured all of his focus into shaping Anya into perfection. Dutiful, disciplined. Bringing honor to the Kovalchuk name. But she was naturally curious and creative, traits trickled down from her mother who was only a dream to her now. It was stifled. She sketched in secret, hiding her works under her bed. Beside books she borrowed from housekeepers, guards or cooks. The people who did a better job of raising her than Viktor. Whom highly disapproved of these frivolous distractions.
At the tender age of eight she was thrusted into the world of Russian ballet. Deemed appropriate for a girl of her name and stature. Anya showed great promise but she found the rigid nature stifling. Nevertheless, she worked tirelessly, praying that she could gain even a shred of his approval.
Despite having peers in ballet, her early years were quite lonely. Friends were few and even farther between. She rarely attended any social events, taught to distrust those who had the potential to take advantage of the Kovalchuk name. The adults around her, save for the employees who became more like parents to her, treated her as a job, a nuisance rather than a person. Her only moments of happiness came from stolen daydreams or escaping into books. Usually read while she snuck away to the marina to sit around on one of her father’s boats. She fantasized about these stories, about running away. A thought she had dismissed as a childish fever dream until much later.
When she turned fifteen years old, Viktor sent her away to a prestigious ballet academy. It was nestled into the snowy countryside of Vermont. To her father it was the only acceptable environment to shape her into the daughter he wanted. A looming place where perfection was the bare minimum and weakness was never to be tolerated. He hoped this would be a good head start if he wanted her to later attend Bolshoi. The academy's exterior looked like it was straight out of a movie. This made it easier for her to compartmentalize. Anya would just pretend she was the main protagonist of an old black and white film. It was a grand, gothic building shrouded in icy forest. It's halls were lined with portraits of legendary dancers. Baryshnikov, Nureyev, Pavlova. Beneath all of the beauty and the legend, there was a harsh world that lay dormant. Breathing in the walls while it waited to be unleashed. It prided itself on creating world-renowned ballerinas but it's methods used tended to be less than orthodox.
Their days began before dawn even stirred awake, punishing drills that left the students breathless. Anya, who was deemed a stellar dancer back home was deemed here, incredibly average. The coaches had no mercy -- berating the students and doing their best to pit the students against one another. Humiliation seemed to be a favored method, and injuries were seen as weakness. Usually ignored until you're immobile. She really struggled to adapt to this and her natural talents could never make up for the physical and physiological toll of these rigorous demands. They were always monitored, especially those unfortunate to be born a woman, every intake of calorie scrutinized. Friendships were rare and often short lived. The constant competition was a breeding ground for jealous and suspicion.
There was one instructor, Mother Sylvia -- who was particularily cruel to little Anya. She had a keen eye for finding insecurities and using them as leverage. Anya was an easy target for her because of her father's wealth and his power. Sylvia would sneer at Anya and mock her; calling her the 'Kovalchuk Princess'. She would berate her and push her harder than all of the others. She learned the only way for her to survive was to just shut up and keep her eyes on the ground or in the mirror. When she dared to look.
It wasn't just the physicality that got to her but also the control. Any phone calls or letters to home were censored and heavily monitor. Leaving the grounds? Out of the question. Are you out of your mind? The isolation was unbearable for her. She was lonely at home but at least she had people to actually talk to. Her love for dance was quickly being replaced with resentment. Any want to be there -- it had been gone within a year tops. Anya, the rebellious spirit she is, would fight the academy in small ways. Staying up late to dance the way she wanted. Freedom and fluidity. Far from the perfection that was demanded of her with an iron fist. She would sneak out at night and traipse through the forest, singing to the fireflies.
It was bad, she had no way out. But you can only keep something caged so long before they gnaw at the bars and claw their way to freedom. Her gnashing of the bars came during her third year there. Anya had been witness to another dancer collapsing while they were rehearsing a routine. Instead of helping her, the instructors in the room simply berated her and dragged her out like she was rubbish. She couldn't watch this anymore, she couldn't be the next one. That night, she packed a small bag with the essentials. What little money she had squabbled together. She snuck past the guards easily; even if they did see her, she didn't think they would tell. Truth be told they probably had the biggest hearts in the vicinity, she could see the pain in their eyes grow larger with every blow witnessed. She ran through the surrounding woods, the socks on her feet nearly frozen to her flesh.
Then, she found the tree. It called to her like a magnificent siren. A place to sit and rest her legs, she had only made it a half mile away from the academy but her body was tired from the constant conditioning. Anya sat beside it and laid her weary head upon the bark. Her eyes dipped closed for what she thought was a moment but when she opened them it was light out. And she wasn't where she was when her eyes had shut. Anya had made it to Aracadia. An unusual town tucked between the veil, one that welcomed her with open arms and helped her become who she is. Who she was always meant to be. She met an old barber who taught her everything he knew, and helped her get adjusted at the Docks. The first night she decided to shed her former name, still afraid someone might find her even dimensions away. To Anastasia Romanov, from Disney's Anastasia -- feeling a bit like a lost royalty herself.
At twenty six, she still lives at the Docks of Arcadia, far away from her gilded life. One that offers freedom and anonymity. She's happy to be surrounded by the faded brick buildings and small town charm. The community is full of other people running from something too. She finds peace with that in a strange way. It's a far cry from the high society that felt like a prison.
Being a barber gives her purpose and control over her life in a way she hasn't experienced before. The buzz of her clippers, the quiet conversations held between -- a grounding ritual that helps her be herself. Something that was once a necessity now a source of happiness for her. Working with her clients has made her realize how much she really values connection -- something she had been deprived of for so long.
Anya's found her own sense of belonging. She doesn't need to seek approval from anyone ever again. She's now just a girl who's cutting through the chains of her past; one snip at a time.
Additional Information/Headcannons
Anya has a secret talent for piano, or more so, great piano training. She's hardly likely to play for anyone and her favorite composer is Chopin, she feels he really encapsulates her melancholy.
She loves horror movies. Particularly the weird and unsettling. Anya loves David Cronenberg for this -- her favorites are the Fly and Dead Ringers.
Anya is fiercely protective of her people and especially her neighbors at the Docks. She's known to track down troublemakers -- not for violent reasons, she just wants to have a ... chat.
Despite being stubborn, she couldn't hold a grudge even if her life depended on it.
She's a pack rat and loves to collect trinkets and tchotchkes.
Anya doesn't realize this but she's a bit charismatic. Sometimes people can feel drawn to her by her charm and her calm demeanor, but she doesn't pick up on it. She thinks she's a very unserious person so she's confused as to why people confide in her or want to be around her.
She's extremely stubborn. More stubborn than a mule. Once Anya has an idea or inkling in her mind, she will do it or die trying.
Wanted Connections
Mentors
Friends
Found Family
Fellow Rebels and Rascals
Confidants
Protectors/Protectee's
Exes/Hookups/Unrequited Love
Neighbors
A Muse
tbc
