#russian oc

[s1lva0l1ne]

POST #1

OC

Nikolai Novikov

[macarroncaramel]

Dysnathy of predators

°Word count: ±4000 °Johnny Worthington/ F! OC ° Warnings!: None? A light kiss °Chapter III °Chapter V °Masterlist °Chapter IV. "Pink fashion"

“Do you think I’m fat?”

I ask Carrie.

She was sitting on her Victorian sofa—white wood with light pink upholstery, featuring those old royal coat-of-arms patterns. She was sorting through different scarves, ranging from pink to red, patterned, colorful, polka-dotted, and striped, in various types of fabric. Velvet, 100% linen, and some special ones made of Egyptian cotton.

In exactly 7 days, classes will start, and looking for a second opinion, I agreed to spend the afternoon with Carrie. Sorting through and trying on her clothes; seeing which ones are still in style and will continue to be worn, and which ones are going in the trash or to a donation center. My old teal jacket, one of several I own, was already spread out on one of the upholstered chairs. While my attention was entirely on the slender silhouette of my body reflected in the mirrors.

“Not at all, you look great!” Carrie said, her cheerful tone returning as she set the handkerchiefs aside and jumped off the couch. Her quick steps brought her over to me, next to one of the huge mirrors in the walk-in closet.

It was literally a princess’s closet. A rectangular room with closets full of clothes and accessories; of course, completely built into the walls. A plush pink rug and opaque white walls. But that only served to highlight the lighting; coming from a huge crystal chandelier that hung in the center. Right below the chandelier was the two-seater sofa from before, along with a single coffee table. It was the only furniture in the room, not counting the small bench that sat in the center of the half-moon-shaped bay window.

“I used to have incredible muscles… I’m not even toned anymore...” I muttered. Looking at myself in the mirror of the huge bedroom, spreading my wings. Stretching them out, and exposing the reflection of my back, allowing me to see my shoulders, which were still defined. But they’re nowhere near what they were three months ago.

“I have to go back to the gym…”

“Why don’t you do gymnastics? The girls and I do it every day.”

“Gymnastics? My dear, I used to fight. Gymnastics is good, but it won’t help me build the muscles I used to have.”

I grumbled. As the pink-haired girl stood up, she grabbed a pile of clothes and tossed them onto the couch, where she had been sitting

“Wrestling, huh? Well, we don’t have that here, dear. The guys at JOX even tried to open a karate gym, and it didn’t work out. They found out that they were actually throwing parties inside the gym.” Carrie smiled cheerfully. As she picked up some shirts, standing next to me and holding them under my chest, checking to see if they fit me.

“Parties? Is that all you guys think about?”

“Of course not, silly! Are you going to tell me you didn’t party at your old college either?” Carrie laughed. I just rolled my eyes.Of course I partied—I was the one who organized the biggest parties and brought in the best acts that rocked our entire Frat Row.

Who at NWC doesn’t remember the huge party I threw my freshman year? With that German craft beer, imported vodka, and music blasting from speakers of all sizes. I miss those days.

“Of course I partied—I was the best hostess.” I stepped down from the small stool, leaving the spot open for Carrie to climb up and try the clothes on herself.

“Oh, really? I can’t wait to see how you party! Rush Week is in a week, and I’m dying to see it!”

“Rush Week?"

I asked, raising an eyebrow. I’d heard about it before—it seems to be a huge party—but I didn’t know it was happening in a week. Classes start in seven days; how do they plan to throw a massive party the night after classes begin? These Americans are crazier than I thought.

“Exactly, Sweet!” Carrie smiled. She tapped her feet quickly on the floor, like a happy rabbit. Her joy was strangely touching. “It’s the first and biggest party! And to welcome the freshmen, that’s when lots of new members are chosen for the fraternities and sororities!”

“Really?” What a joy. A bunch of freshmen trying to prove they’re scary enough to get into a fraternity, where they’ll be treated as the lowest of the low in the group’s hierarchy. I think I lost my focus; I need to work on that.

“Yes, yes! You’re coming, right? Every house is throwing an exclusive party…! And then, the party spills out onto the street, and everyone has a blast!” Laughter smiled, clapping her hands in delight. I can almost see her mind conjuring up scenes, people she wants to talk to, and just how many pink, sugary drinks she’s going to down. I’m going to make sure to stay away from any drink a PNK offers me—I don’t want to get diabetes just yet.

As she thought about it, Williams turned on her heel. She walked over to the nearest cabinet, opened it, and revealed a veritable treasure trove of jewelry. Necklaces; earrings; bracelets; horn chains; in every color imaginable and sorted by price. And nothing there cost less than $9,000.It was so opulent, so extravagant…I want one of those.

“I don’t know… I’m not sure…" I’m sure. "You know, I’m still getting used to college life. A party this big is too much.”

Of course I’m going, honey. I’m not going to miss the chance to drink and dance—I need it! That purple demon ruined my last night; it was the last time I relaxed in the comfort of a vodka. Bad, but still vodka. And now, I’d really love a party.

“Too much? Come on! Aria, you have to give it a chance!” Carrie turned back to me quickly. A determined look on her face, making her smile widen even more. “Trust me, please? The girls and I would love to accompany you to your first party here at MU!”

“I’m not sure, Carrie….” Yes, I am!

“It’ll be fun! I want to introduce you to the other sororities!”

“Do you think they’d like me?” Of course they would. Monsters like having someone pretty around; it makes them feel… special. Or totally undesirable, depending.

“They’ll love you!” The PNK laughed out loud. With a grace that belied her spontaneity, she twirled and spun among the cabinets. Picking up piece after piece of jewelry, adding to the small, expensive pile accumulating on her arm. It was like looking at an ancient pirate’s treasure.

“All right… You’ve convinced me.” I smiled. Giving Carrie’s forehead a light tap, she just let out a cheerful giggle. Picking up some jewelry in her arms, she pressed them against my skin. “…And what are you doing?”

“Seeing what suits you! We have to see what you’re going to wear.”

“I think I can do that myself.”

Carrie held the jewelry against her own chest in a quick, dramatic motion. As her mouth opened into a perfect “O” of indignation, I couldn’t help but laugh—and I must admit, it was a cynical laugh. I couldn’t resist.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Carrie. But I think I can handle this on my own.” I laughed. I looked at myself in the mirror again, while the pink-haired girl turned her back and walked back to the jewelry cabinet. This time, her gait was dramatic and heavy, causing one or two pieces of jewelry—chains and expensive stones—to fall to the floor. Strangely, she didn’t even seem to mind.

“All right, all right. Let’s see how you do without my help!” Carrie hummed.

“And I’ll eagerly await your reaction!” I hummed back.

As I listened to the rhythmic sound of the hostess organizing and reorganizing the thousands of pieces and luxury items, I couldn’t help but notice a specific little sparkle out of the corner of my eye.

A small, gleaming box. In the center of the cabinet where Carrie stood, a small box adorned with pieces of polished copper and silver, in spiral shapes that reminded me of tulip buds and lotus flowers, intricately carved into the patterns of the polished wooden box.It was old, it was rare. And that naturally reminded me of the pocket watch I had in my jacket.

“Carrie~” I called softly. Being careful with my tone of voice. The slightest sign of interest, a dose more than mere curiosity, and she would likely shut down.

“Yeah?~” she hummed again. Returning to softly mumbling the lyrics of a pop song.

“What’s that little box?” I pointed with one of my claws. My tail was probably making an automatic swaying motion, and then stopping, leaving only the tip to move.Carrie, however, seemed to snap out of her musical reverie. She set aside what she had been working on, letting the rings fall back into the drawer, mixing them all together into a jumble of gold and silver circles.

“This?” The PNK picked up the box gently between her claws. She didn’t scratch it, much less squeeze it.

“It’s simply one of my greatest treasures.”She smiled slightly, running one of her claws over the box. And then, smiling happily again.

“Look, it’s simply my grandmother’s necklace. She always wore this very same pearl necklace, every day.” Carrie opened the box, moving closer to me; allowing me to see the necklace.,

They were almost perfectly round pearls, with that characteristic opaque white hue. The thin line connecting them was a very fine white gold chain, which matched the small pink tourmalines that served as delicate pendants wherever one pearl met another.

“It’s beautiful…”

“I know, it’s perfect.” Carrie closed the box. And as she held it close to her body, she looked at me with a serious expression. “Look, I know we haven’t known each other for very long, Aria. But this necklace is simply one of my most valuable possessions. So…could you keep this a secret?”

“Of course. I’m not that kind of person.” I replied almost automatically as I stepped down from the small stool. “Thanks for trusting me. So how about I return the favor?”

Carrie looked slightly confused, but that expression was quickly replaced by one of gentle joy—different from the popular-girl energy she’d had before. I took the moment to grab my coat, the beautiful French jacket that was practically rotting in those dirty boxes I’d been forced to bring. And right there, in the inside pocket, I pulled out my grandfather’s watch.

“Here it is… my grandfather’s pocket watch. But he didn’t make it himself; it’s even older than that. Isn’t it lovely?” I smiled genuinely at the girl beside me. “It’s a Swiss watch, by Blancpain. It’s entirely handmade, and it’s over 200 years old…” I couldn’t help but let the pure pride show in my voice. It’s a family heirloom, something so old and yet so new compared to my lineage. Especially on my father’s side.

“A Blancpain!?” Carrie whispered, in shock. Her slender, elegant fingers brushed against the tiny translucent diamonds set around the hands. I let her hold the heavy pocket watch, while the soft ticking of “Tick; Tock.” And again, grew louder to me with every passing second. “Girl, my Dad wouldn’t let me touch his collectibles…and you’re just walking around with a jewel like this in your pocket? As if it were nothing?”

“Hey, I’m not walking around showing this off. It’s always safely in my pocket” I say with feigned offense, holding the thin chain of the heirloom in a controlled manner. “And believe me, it’s safer with me than inside a little box in some safe.”

Carrie shrugged, looking more closely at the carved details. Her claws—not sharp, but clipped—touched the coat of arms on the back. The patterns of Russian words and rhymes, symbols so ancient they’ve been lost in time. In fact, some of my relatives have even tried to figure out where this watch came from. It’s been in the family for so long that no one is really sure. Although it has the Blancpain symbol engraved on one of the sides, I’ve always found the brand strangely too new for the rest of the piece. After all, the brand is over 100 years old. But to be honest, the watch strangely seems older than that, even though it’s very well preserved.

“What’s written here?...” the girl in pink whispered. Snapping me out of my thoughts for a moment.

“Nothing much, just the family name. Nordenov.” I replied.

“Never heard of it…”

“And it’s better that way, trust me.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. Carrie’s confused expression, the way her thin eyebrows furrowed almost automatically. And then, they widened in surprise when I took the old watch back. “But, hey. I didn’t come here to hear old Slavic stories; I want to hear from you.”

I put the watch in my pocket. With my hands on Carrie’s hips, I helped her climb onto the stool.

“Tell me a little about your grandmother. She must have had good taste to like those pearls.”

The girl clearly wasn’t too keen on changing the subject. I can see it in her suspicious gaze—well, that is, before it’s replaced by a proud look. It’s always like this. The problem with monsters like this, from elite families, is their clear desire to show off. Even if discreetly, what they have or what they’ve been through. Whether it’s a family history, a rare object… and I won’t lie, it’s a delightful feeling. Not even I am immune to that proud and arrogant feeling.

“Ah… my Grandma Cherry. I don’t remember much about her, you know? But the few things I do remember are amazing.” As Carrie began to speak, her voice filled with longing, I grabbed a small stool, a brush from the vanity, and some bobby pins. Nothing brings two girls closer together than a new hairstyle

“She used to tuck me in at night. She called me ‘little glitter,’ and in fact, I was going through that unicorn phase.”

I mumbled a reply. Focusing on the Channel cut in front of me, I ran the brush gently through her already styled hair. Starting at the bottom, then working my way up little by little. The straight strands were easy to work with; they didn’t tangle like the mess of white, curly hair I have myself.

“...She was a sweetheart. Everyone listened when Ms. Cherry spoke. And no wonder—she had this habit of never stopping staring. It was scary, but it helped me relax… it was as if she’d never leave my side…”

I started by braiding her hair, adding a more sophisticated touch with four long red strands. I gathered them at the end, creating a sort of tiara around Carrie’s head.

“...She was the one who brought the family to Elite. She bought Scream Inc. They say it was during a really tough time, but she made it happen with her own blood and sweat.”

My hands stopped in the middle of working on the secondary braids, just above the first ones.

“Scream Inc.?”

“Yeah, you know, one of the top three scream factories in the city—we’re only behind Fear Co. and Monsters Inc.”

Scream Inc., then… that means… Oh, right.

“Fear Co. Isn’t that the company owned by that idiot demon?” I smiled, hiding my sudden enthusiasm for the new information I’d just acquired.

“Johnny? Yeah, that’s him.” Carrie said casually, looking at herself in the mirror and trying, unsuccessfully, to check my work. When suddenly, she remembers something important. “And speaking of him, what the hell is going on between you two? I’ve been hearing from everywhere about what happened at the diner. And was it you who scratched his horns?”

Oh yeah. Here we go again.

“Yeah. It was me.” I replied, without thinking. Almost rolling my eyes. Holding Carrie’s head forward just as she tried to look at me over her shoulder. And going back to braiding her hair. “He bumped into me that day I met you and went out drinking with the girls; he was rude to me. I went after him—it’s just payback.”

“And the diner? Honey, the whole campus is talking about it!” the girl said, putting her hands on her hips.

*Tsk* “No big deal, at least in my opinion. Just small talk—he insults me, I insult him. He gets a little mad, we argue a bit. And you guys take it from there.” I muttered, working on the composition of the masterpiece I’m creating.

“Just arguing? Aria, nobody argues with Johnny.” Carrie chuckled softly. A polite smile, but not a genuine one, almost worried. “Look, he’s not the kind of guy who always takes things as a joke. It might seem that way in the moment, but he really has a good memory.”

“Aria, look, Johnny is the dangerous type. He might seem approachable, but he’s not. I was here when a guy embarrassed him in sophomore year, and that guy was simply expelled after that.” Carrie said with genuine concern in her voice, a warning. A plea, perhaps? “You really seem like a nice person, just don’t get yourself into trouble. He might give you more trouble than you can handle. Trust me.”

Oh, if only you knew what I’m planning, Carrie.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got my tricks, sweetie. I’ll be fine.” I replied with a smile. Baring my fangs, but keeping my gaze down and relaxed. As I finish another braid.

“Yeah… but that warning goes for that girl you’re hanging out with, too…” Carrie said, returning with that popular-girl air about her.

“Chloe?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. She tried to join PNK a few weeks ago, but, yeah, it’s not happening,” Carrie argued.

“Like, she’s blue and doesn’t fit with the pink aesthetic. And besides, she’s… weird, I don’t know. Britney’s all shy and timid too, but Chloe… she’s just beyond help. At least Britty follows the aesthetic.”

I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Yeah, we were having a nice moment here, and still, I like Chloe. And maybe Britney really did deserve the position and Chloe just wasn’t ready to join a sorority like PNK. But “out of the aesthetic”? Hmm, we’ll see about that.

“Seriously? Oh, she didn’t tell me any of that. She didn’t even mention that she wanted to join PNK.” I say, using the most surprised voice I can fake.

“Of course she didn’t. Girls like her never do.” Carrie rolled her eyes. All three of them. “So, just stay away from the riffraff, honey. That’s my advice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I smile. Of course, I’ll take her advice. “And there we go.”

I say, picking up a small, jeweled comb from Rosada’s collection—it was a very delicate Japanese style. And it fit perfectly between the pairs of braids I’d made, serving as the centerpiece of a red museum.

“Wow, Aria, that looks beautiful!” Carrie smiled with that infectious joy again. Turning to look in the mirror. “You have to do this more often!”

I chuckled softly. Unable to escape the not-so-far-fetched thoughts and plans forming in my head.

“Yeah, I know.”

==================================

“Miss Ária! Why are you doing this!?”

“Doing what? Be more specific!y”

“Dragging me to your dorm room!”

Chloe complained. As I held her by the wrist, I walked her down the increasingly crowded dormitory hallway. I led the way, pushing through the sea of bodies, pulling the beautiful blue creature within my reach.

“You’ll see!” I say, smiling, pulling Bluey into my arms. Holding her in classic princess style, though I’d rather not touch that gray, stained sweatshirt she’s wearing—it’s worth it. The girl is light as a feather; I don’t know if it’s because she probably has a terrible college diet, or because my muscle strength still exists.

“Miss Ária!” Chloe muttered under her breath, trying not to draw attention to herself even though she was basically already doing just that. Her face had taken on that lovely shade of dark blue; she was embarrassed and trying to hide her face in her hands.

I should watch this scene a little longer, but unfortunately I’m on a mission here. Quickly, I climb the stairs. Using only the tips of my flat feet, which help me move better. And finally, I arrive at my dorm: Room 320.

“We’re here.” I entered the room and locked the door with my tail holding the key. I didn’t think much as I left Bluey on my bed—maybe I just tossed her onto the mattress. I’m too excited for that, opening my closet and coming face-to-face with all my clothes. Some were still scattered in the corner, but we won’t pay attention to that now.

“Wh-why did you bring me here?” Chloe stammered. Watching me rummage through the clothes, pulling out and unfolding shirts, useless pants, jackets, and overcoats, as well as scarves and short skirts. This is a mess.

“Why didn’t you tell me about PNK?” I muttered. Still without looking at herI hear the blue-haired girl choke. Maybe the words are stuck in her throat. I’m not fully focused on her yet; my jewelry practically cries out for my attention. So I get up and go to the one I left in the bathroom.

“I… I thought it was better not to tell you, Aria… I was the one who was stupid for trying to get in.” Chloe stammered again, this time her voice was racing. Panicking, once again. “I already knew I didn’t fit in! They’re popular, they go together! And, and I’m weird! Even Carrie said it to my face.”

“Listen.” I interrupted her. I gathered several pieces of clothing in my arms, just like Carrie did to me this morning. And I walked over to Bluey.

“Don’t ever say that again, Bluey.” I held the girl’s face by the chin, using only my claws. Not gently like I’d done before—it was stronger. She had to look only at me. I’m sure that if I’d squeezed just a little harder, just a touch more force, I could have left a mark on her cheek.

“You’re not a weirdo. You hang out with me, and that, my dear, isn’t synonymous with being a weirdo. It’s synonymous with elite.” I keep my gaze fixed on those three sky-blue eyes belonging to that girl. “Do you want to be a weirdo? Do you want to let Carrie drag you down to that level?”

“No…” Chloe murmured. Softly, as her eyes filled with tears. But not daring to look away from mine.

“Then be great, Bluey. And I’ll help you with that. You need me… I’ll take you to the top with me.” I smile. Watching her little face light up more and more, her mouth was slightly open—speechless, perhaps? I let the clothes fall from my arms; I can pick them up later.

I couldn’t help but move closer, closer to those thin lips. And finally, we both closed our eyes.

It wasn’t a passionate kiss. Or an intense one. It was small, light—just a meeting of lips and a gentle brush of fangs. Chloe’s lips were soft and thin, and even warmer. Maybe even warm, like cold coffee with milk on a winter afternoon. I feel the small cuts on her lips; the closeness of her skin, the lack of sharp fangs on her lips, make mine stand out more. Which probably causes a strange sensation for her. It wasn’t long—just a peck lasting three seconds at most.

“So…” I smiled, pulling away from her slightly. Letting go of her face, I stand up, straightening my posture with my head held high. “How do you plan to reach the top by my side, wearing those rags?”

Chloe doesn’t answer me. Although her gaze follows my every move, I see her start to breathe again, almost like a sigh of relief as she closes her half-open mouth.

“Today. I’ll transform you into someone worthy of royalty.” I smiled, picking up the clothes again. “It was just as I told you, Bluey...”

I turned almost dramatically, going to find more clothes that would suit her.

“Stay close to me, so you’ll learn everything.”

[randalliantealinepaint]

My Russian ocs

Benie- Russian

Mark- American/russian

(They are father and son)

Warning: I think this isnt thw accurate Russian or my writting is bad but I got this from Google Translate

[spacezombie-731]

Washing Down Birthdays 🥃🚬

”Look at the camera baby, happy birthday!”

”M- Mom noT now.. I look UgLy tipSy!..”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY YURIII! (May 31st)

[xxmichaelplayer1xx]

pjo oc

September 21st, 2001: Born.

October, 2006: Mom starts chatting with some American folk

June, 2008: Sasha, Misha and Natalya move to Brooklyn, New York. 

May 2009: Natalya and Owen Castro get married.

June, 2009: Misha disappears lol

July 2009: Sasha hates his new stepdad.

June 2010: Sasha gets taken by a satyr named Noah, to Camp Half Blood.

June 2010: Misha isn’t dead!

July 2010: Sasha gets claimed by Dionysus, which is a big surprise considering the fact that nobody had been claimed by him in about 15 years, ever since Castor and Pollux had been taken to camp.

August 2011: Sasha really loves Castor!!

August 2012: Castor is dead.

October 2012: Arielle Grace Castro is born.

2017: he tries some of his father’s stockpiled wine in the cellar. Its delicious and he loves the warm feeling bubbling in his stomach when he drinks it. Almost like Castor is wrapping his warm hands around his middle.

Late 2017: Sable begs him to set down the bottle and to go back to being the same Sasha that she met. He tells her to fuck off. 

2018: He starts his bender well and truly.

2019: He starts dating a woman named Elizabeth “Eli” Marie Curtis. A local dealer from just outside of Long Island Sound, where Camp Half-Blood is located.

2020: Sasha gets arrested for DWI in Boston. 

2021: Gets jailed for six months, and probation for two years. 

2022: Sasha drives under the influence again and gets his license revoked for four years, on top of four more years of probation. 

Late 2022: Sasha breaks up with Eli after she cheats on him with another man named Samuel. 

Late 2023: Sasha almost overdoses on his ex-girlfriend’s Xanax. (She was a xanax dealer who accidentally left some at his apartment, which Sasha took with him when he got kicked out).

Early 2024: Sasha wakes up from his medically induced coma to Sable sitting beside his bed, whispering to him in broken Russian. 

Mid 2024: Sasha gets released and moves in temporarily with Sable “just to get back up on his feet.” 

Late 2024: tensions rise between Nico and Sasha because Nico believes that Sasha is abusive towards Sable.

Early 2025: Sasha enters therapy and is actively in Alcoholics Anonymous. 

Early-mid: 2025: Sasha works hard to mend his relationship with Nico. Because Sable is so close to the both of them they both work incredibly hard to ensure they’re pleasant enough around her. Around this time Sable and Sasha start dating.

Late 2025: Nico and Sasha officially bury the hatchet. They agree that while Sasha didn’t use to be the best influence, he’s a continuous force for good in Sable’s life and a constant push to be better. 

Early 2026: Sasha and Sable start officially dating.

Mid 2026: Sasha is no longer on probation.

Late 2026: Sasha starts planning their proposal in his head.

2027: on Sasha’s birthday (3/21), they both propose. Giggles and happiness ensues. 

2027: they have a little courthouse wedding. Nothing too extreme. Just deep love for one another.

2028: Sasha and Sable have a wedding party. Nico is their flower boy. :3  

October 31st, 2029:  suspected gift from Aphrodite appears. She made Will and Nico a baby as a thanks for taking care of Sable. It's a baby who is named Bianca Sollazzo di Angelo.

December 25th, 2030: Mysterious package arrives…It's a baby!! 

2031: They get the baby in to see a doctor. An intersex baby!!

2031: Sable and Sasha have long conversations about what they want for their child, who is named Bailey Ying Ivanova. 

2031: Sasha and Sable decide the best thing to do is to just kinda go with the flow. Legally their gender marker is X, implying they’re intersex. 

March 2nd, 2033: Another baby!! This one is a boy named Rae Ruoxi Ivanov.

His name is Aleksandr Keiji Denisvich Ivanov-Castro :3

[rad1um-ac1d]

I drew one of my old ocs woooo

[write-with-will]

Lane’s genuine reaction when she finds out she was drafted for a French team and now has to learn ANOTHER language (she’s barely fluent in English)

[islandtarochips]

Modern Warfare (Reboot) OC: Black Swan

General

🇷🇺 Name: Anya Morozova (Анна Морозова) 🇷🇺 Alias(es): - Anya - Morozova - Anna - Swan - Black Swan (nickname used by some Konni soldiers) 🇷🇺 Gender: Female 🇷🇺 Age: 35 🇷🇺 Birthday: February 17th, 1991 🇷🇺 Nationality: Russian 🇷🇺 Place of Birth: Saint Petersburg, Russia 🇷🇺 Home: Unknown / Frequently relocated by Konni 🇷🇺 Spoken Languages: Russian (Native), English (Fluent) 🇷🇺 Sexuality: Heterosexual 🇷🇺 Occupation: - Former Ballet Dancer - Infiltration / Assassination Operative for Konni Group

Appearance

🇷🇺 Eye Color: Grey / Icy Blue 🇷🇺 Hair Color: Dark Blonde / Light Brown 🇷🇺 Height: 5’7” / 170 cm 🇷🇺 Build: Lean and flexible (Dancer’s Physique) 🇷🇺 Scars: - Training scar along her ribs from years of intense ballet practice. 🇷🇺 Distinct Traits: - Extremely balanced posture - Controlled and graceful movements - Often stretches or warms up before missions like a dancer - Very calm body language even while armed

🇷🇺 Face Claim: Irina Shayk

Favorites

🇷🇺 Color: Black 🇷🇺 Food: Borscht 🇷🇺 Drink: Black Tea 🇷🇺 Flower: White Lily 🇷🇺 Music: Classical Ballet Music (especially Swan Lake)

Affiliation

Konni Group

Vladimir Makarov

Konni Operatives

Russian Intelligence (Former Family Connection)

GRU (Through her father)

Personality

🇷🇺 Myers Briggs Type: ISTP

Anya is a quiet and disciplined individual who rarely speaks unless necessary. She prefers observing situations before acting and keeps most of her thoughts and emotions hidden from others.

She is extremely focused during missions and maintains a calm demeanor even under dangerous circumstances.

Because of her background in ballet, she values precision, control, and discipline in everything she does.

Unlike many soldiers, she does not rely on aggression or intimidation. Instead, she approaches combat with patience and calculated movements.

🇷🇺 Observant and Analytical: Anya constantly watches her surroundings and notices small details others might overlook. This makes her extremely effective in infiltration and reconnaissance operations.

🇷🇺 Disciplined: Years of ballet training taught her strict discipline and control over her body. This discipline carries over into her combat style and mental focus during missions.

🇷🇺 Emotionally Guarded: She rarely shares personal thoughts or feelings. Most people within Konni know very little about her past.

Negative Traits

🇷🇺 Emotionally Suppressed: Anya hides her emotions behind discipline and silence. The trauma surrounding her father’s disappearance still affects her deeply.

🇷🇺 Trust Issues: Because of what happened to her family, Anya struggles to trust others easily. Even within Konni, she keeps her distance from most operatives.

🇷🇺 Inner Conflict: While she works for Konni, part of her still questions their motives and wonders if the organization knows the truth about her father.

Skills and Abilities

🇷🇺 Fighting Style: Ballet-Inspired Close-Quarters Combat - Her combat style reflects her ballet training. She relies on agility, balance, and precision rather than brute strength.

🇷🇺 Weapons: - Suppressed Pistols - Compact SMGs - Sniper Rifles (occasionally)

🇷🇺 Distinct Weapon: - Combat Knife: Her knife fighting is particularly dangerous due to her speed and fluid movements.

🇷🇺 Special Skills: Stealth Infiltration: Anya can move quietly through hostile environments, using precise footwork to avoid detection.

High Agility Combat: Her flexibility and balance allow her to move quickly in tight spaces and unstable environments.

Silent Movement: Her dancer training enables her to land softly and maintain control while moving.

Precision Attacks: Instead of overpowering enemies, she targets weak points and uses quick, controlled strikes.

Family

Sergei Morozov (Father, Missing)

Elena Morozova (Mother, Alive)

Trivia

🇷🇺 Anya began ballet training at a very young age and was considered a promising dancer before her career collapsed.

🇷🇺 She still performs small ballet warm-up routines before missions without realizing it.

🇷🇺 Many Konni soldiers find her movements unsettling because she fights with unusual grace.

🇷🇺 Some operatives refer to her as “Black Swan.”

🇷🇺 Despite her calm demeanor, she secretly wants to uncover the truth about her father’s disappearance.

🇷🇺 Vladimir Makarov personally approved her recruitment into Konni.

Backstory

Anya Morozova was born in Saint Petersburg, Russia. Her father, Sergei Morozov, was an intelligence officer connected to the GRU, while her mother worked in a cultural institution connected to Russia’s ballet community.

Because of her mother’s connections, Anya began ballet training at an early age and quickly showed exceptional talent. She spent most of her childhood training and was expected to pursue a professional ballet career.

However, when Anya was still a teenager, her father was suddenly accused of treason against the Russian government. He was publicly framed as a traitor and disappeared shortly afterward.

The scandal destroyed the Morozov family’s reputation. Anya lost her opportunities within the ballet world, and her once-promising career ended abruptly.

Years later, members of the Konni Group approached her with information suggesting her father had been framed. Believing Konni might hold the answers she had been searching for, Anya eventually agreed to work with them.

Under Konni’s training, she adapted her physical discipline and ballet movement into a unique combat style centered around stealth, speed, and precision.

Now operating under the callsign “Swan,” Anya works as an infiltration and assassination operative while secretly hoping to uncover the truth about her father’s disappearance.

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