( katheryn winnick / 1000+ / she+her ) touched by destiny, Anastasia Voloshyn steps onto the shores of kairos. the vampyr has threads woven with liquid gold pooling under a crescent moon, tastes of cinnamon and honey dripping from the comb, and scents of frankincense and pomegranate and sweet orange. they are accompanied by whispers of a prophecy: ❛ golden threads will bind blood to bone and teach the one born of woman, blood, and ash to open her heart to trust once more. ❜ only time will tell if the phoenix is here to fulfill their fate or bring about its ultimate undoing.
Characters Basics
Character Name: Anastasia Voloshyn
Nicknames: Sia (rare few), Stasia, Stasi
Species: Vampyr - Daywalker
Age: 1000+ (appears to be in her 30s)
Birthdate: March 14th
Birthplace: Constantinople, Byzantine Empire
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Residence: Isle of Kairos
Occupation: Professor at the Lyceum – Literature & History
Languages: Latin, Greek, Ukrainian, English, French, Italian, & Russian (at least)
Personality & Random
Positive Traits: Resourceful, sensual, generous
Negative Traits: Self-Indulgent, vindictive, jealous
Type: ISFP – The Adventurer
Enneagram: 2 – The Helper
Hobbies: Dancing, chess, stargazing
Biography
Anastasia was born into Byzantium nobility, the daughter of both privilege and responsibility. Born one day after Anna Porphyrogenita, the daughter of Byzantine emperor Romanos II and the Empress Theophano, she became the new princess’ close companion, even journeying with her to Kiev after her wedding to Vladimir I Sviatoslavich. Upon reaching Kiev, Anastasia began to assist her friend and princess to learn how to fit in with her new people, waiting to hear about her own betrothal – which she would have no say over. While there, however, she met a prophetess who warned her that a monster would come to claim her, changing her into a creature of the night. But, the prophetess added, should she find the right blood, it would gift her with a return to the sun.
Anastasia had no idea what the woman meant . . . until she met the creature bearing the face of a man who seduced her, marked her, and then left her changed forever – an exile from the ones she’d loved.
In the millennium since, she has lived as a vampyr – a child of the night. It took her a long time to accept her fate as it hadn’t been one she’d sought, but eventually she learned to adapt. Then she learned to thrive. Anastasia travelled extensively – pursuing knowledge, experiences, beauty. She even, after many years, managed to forgive her sire for his actions after spending a single century with her humanity turned off, something she did during a bout of depression. Suddenly it made sense how someone might look upon others as merely a way to satisfy a craving.
Granted, it helped when she met him again, sometime during the Italian Renaissance, and he’d been an entirely different person. Since then, she’d been careful not to turn off her humanity. Perhaps her emotions proved difficult, even overwhelming, but she never again woke to face tragedy and ruin left in her wake. Not that she was diametrically opposed to tragedy and ruin – she just preferred to have a better reason than "I was bored".
Anastasia knows she’s not the oldest vampire – she doubts she’s even in the top ten oldest who are still walking the earth – but she’s definitely among the eldest. Too many surrendered to their natures over time, and the hunter becomes the hunted so easily in the world.
And her recent life proved it.
Hunters – rogue ones – managed to catch her off guard, trapped her, and nearly killed her. She could still smell her flesh burning as she fought to survive. Carelessness by one of the hunters gave her the opening she needed and she escaped, crawling away to let herself heal. Eventually she recovered enough to hunt them down, every one of them she could find, and made them pay for their audacity. Then she sought somewhere to rest and recover her sense of peace. It brought her to Kairos, to a teaching position at the Lyceum, where her long experience with history and literature might be passed on to others.
it made him all the more happy that he'd never thought to enroll in the school, and feel a little bad for the people that had. traditional schooling hadn't ever appealed to him, not when he barely sat in one spot for longer than an hour and required a level of discipline that he didn't hold for academia. eli used to think there was something wrong with him, but there wasn't anything someone could say or do that would make an essay interesting or worth it to them. ‟ seems a little unfortunate that they'd think it was unlikely they'd meet your standards, ” answers with a shrug, ‟ but i'm sure you're very knowledgeable about the subject and they'd want your validation. ”
Anastasia’s eyebrows rose and she rolled her shoulders in an indifferent shrug. “My reputation precedes me, and I see no reason to lower my standards in order to avoid hurting someone’s feelings. If they cannot - or will not - put forth the effort, then they do not belong in my class.” It mattered little to her what grades or opinions any of the students might earn. In the long run, most of them would be but insects in her life - here and then gone in the blink of an eye. Their choices and actions would prove whether or not they would be a bright and breathtaking butterfly or a walking stick that faded into the background. “Respect and validation should be earned . . . or it is worthless.”
There is a degree of fear and trepidation that comes from interacting with one’s professors… Or at least so Yurena assumes, from the way her peers interact with them. As if they were an entirely different sort of being, entirely separate from the student’s body personhood. It’s rather amusing to see, and as such she makes a point of interacting with professors ‘in the wild’ as much as she can, if only to see the momentary surprise in her fellow student’s eyes.
She remembers Professor Voloshyn from one of the contemporary history courses she had taken in hopes of learning more of modernity, so when she sees her in one of the work benches during one of her class breaks, she steps out of her usual routine to sit next to her.
“What class is it for?” She questions, head tilted but eyes steady on the Professor’s face. She is less interested in the essay itself and more in the class it belongs to.
“The Renaissance,” Anastasia replied, glancing up at the familiar voice. She smiled to recognize a former student of hers. “That rather intriguing time of European history which saw them reaching back to the classical periods for their inspiration. The mortals consider it an enlightened time.” A soft huff of breath blended amusement with condensation. “I suppose if we wish to discuss art and certain aspects of culture, they might possess a leg to stand on. Perhaps.”
She tucked the essay away. “This particular student is doing an excellent job at digging beneath the surface, and I look forward to seeing where she takes her argument as her project continues. Provided she continues in such excellent fashion, I have no doubt she’ll prove to be one of my outstanding students this semester.”
Her smile broadened. “But how are you doing, Yurena?” Anastasia inquired. “I haven’t had the pleasure of your company in any of my classes lately.”
rhys moves through the corridors of the lyceum. he's here on official business. patients' memory recovery has been slower than anticipated with the shadows, and he's come to review some of the recent cognitive rehabilitation studies the university's medical department has been conducting.
by the time he reaches one of the stone benches in the courtyard, he spots anastasia seated there, her focus on an essay in her hands. ❛ are you not often impressed by your student's essays ? ❜ the nymph asks as he settles in the space beside her.
“To my deepest dismay,” Anastasia sighed, actually glancing up and over at the speaker. Rhys Álvarez had been around for quite a long time, one of the few who she knew that rivaled her own age. They’d met . . . goodness, how many years ago had it been now? She couldn’t remember and didn’t bother taking the time to think about it. Needless to say, she’d known him long enough to consider him in a much more friendly, patient manner than most. “Most of them tend to be surface, superficial, and a simple regurgitation of facts rather than an attempt to truly dig into the meat of a subject to find the truth.” She rolled her eyes. “If they can only tell me when something happened and why it happened without giving me anything on why it is important, then why do they bother?”
the sprawling, campus grounds of the lyceum were ideal for getting lost in crowds, which xavier found himself doing so more and more frequently, avoiding many who preferred speaking on matters they truly didn’t know much about. at least, in his opinion. he’d rather not be involved with rumors at all. moreover, shutting himself in the university’s library for a lengthy amount of time when possible was certainly beneficial. a way to brush up on ancient greek readings for coven practices, as well as receive necessary privacy he’d been in search of. especially as of late.
after finally exiting the building, the island atmosphere engulfing his frame once more, he began his trek elsewhere. the golden lyre would need his attention soon enough regardless. still, the realization hit he probably should at least ear over the recent book page he’d taken from the library. halting at a stone bench to do so, hearing another pensive, nearby voice shifted his attention.
“one of your students, i assume?” xavier asks aimlessly, despite the uncertainty the other was addressing someone at all.
“One could so assume, yes,” Anastasia replied without looking up. “For I would hardly waste my time in reading student essays for fun or another professor.” She paused, still not looking away from the words before her, and then gave a soft laugh. “Well, unless perhaps they offered a sufficient enough trade,” she corrected. Finishing the essay, she penned a quick note of approval at the bottom as well as a couple of book suggestions for further study and review. She then tucked the page away before turning to look at the person beside her.
Xavier Arazi, owner of the Golden Lyre.
Her eyebrows rose. “And what brings the owner of one of the most exclusive restaurants on Kairos to our little corner of the island?” she asked, a pleasant smile curving her mouth. Considering her own patronage of the place, she would certainly place nice. “Are you looking for something in particular? Or merely seeking to while away some time?”
there are times when cosimo barely even minds being needled ⸻ now is not one of them . there is too much lost and too much left to lose . not just for him , but every single soul . the shadows would not stop on this island . ❛ i will take delight in things once we managed to keep everyone alive . ❜ the word cuts like a knife after violet's death and the transition that followed , but she is still alive as well , isn't she ? different from before , but breathing .
❛ i would appreciate it . ❜ there , the manners anastasia insists on . ❛ i expected as much . hades has always been big on privacy . ❜ hopes are low , but the fury is not going to leave a single stone unturned . ❛ i have no time for a scavenger hunt , but a vampyr who might be willing to help me . unless you are as well ? ❜
Anastasia continued walking towards the archives, her strides steady and sure. The library would do them little good as the bureaucracy wouldn’t consider adding anything on the Underworld beyond the basics. Perhaps the gods had vanished for now, but they wouldn’t risk a sudden return. On the other hand, the archives might contain a few more trails.
“I prefer him to either of his brothers,” she chuckled. “And his wife is certainly more reasonable.”
Her eyes flickered in his direction at the hint of a request. Seeking out answers on the Underworld, Hades, and this new darkness would be a time-consuming process, and she considered the urgency of his words as well as the irritation she could almost see emanating through him.
Which - not exactly an accurate point of reference.
Cosimo, in her experience, rarely looked peaceful or happy.
Still, if Anastasia could find something that helped, or even gave him a new line of inquiry, that would improve her standing with him. And who wouldn’t want to be in a better position in the eyes of such an ancient? Her lips curved in a generous smile. “Well, it would be good to brush up on my ancient Greek and Latin,” she laughed. “Plus, I do adore reading up on Persephone.”
