Anastasia "Anya" Mercerueau || Appears 25, but is 1,179 || Vampire || FC: Jessica Brown Findlay
(+) Willful, Erudite, Tender
(-) Outspoken, Proud, Obstreperous
Anya is nothing if not amazingly well-versed with literature, a bizarre assortment of pop culture references, and history. While these might be questionable capacities, she is not just personable but intelligent. In fact, the girl has avowed one of her life goals as trying everything at least once – given her longevity, she thinks it’s not at all unreasonable. She has read an astonishing number of classics. This unabashed bookworm is dauntless and fun-loving. She is always up for laughter and is very good at making people smile, even if her broad sense of humor can go from dark and sarcastic to light and ridiculous in a confusing heartbeat.
Generally speaking, she’s a happy and upbeat person who doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. Don’t take this for a moment take this at face value: there’s much more going on in that head of hers than it may seem. She’s extremely dutiful and certainly has a mind of her own. Anya is unrelentingly loyal towards and protective of her small, close-knit group of friends/family and she would never in a thousand years (literally) allow anything to happen to them, if she could prevent it. She is, afterall, courageous (often to the point of impetuosity) and she’s not afraid to fight for what she believes in.
Lively, cheerful, and talkative, Anya is also extremely quirky. She has her mind made up about certain things, her opinions rather cemented when they have little right to be. True, she is very quick to laugh at anything – including herself – and she is a very enthusiastic kind of person (even about bizarrely morbid things, like mummification), but once she makes up her mind, she is quite convinced she is right. Anya can also be painfully blunt. She says what she thinks, for the most part, however ridiculous or inappropriate to a given situation.
A smarter or kinder young girl you’d be hard-pressed to find. This young woman is about as compassionate, generous, and helpful as they come. She does her best to always be of use and is quite a busy little thing (“Idle hands are the devil’s playthings,” she’ll say with a mischievous glint in her eyes); nonetheless, she will always take time out of her hectic schedule to be there for someone. Nothing is more important than the people in her life. She will always see the good in people and encourage it and loves nothing more than to make those around her smile. She is always ready with a smile and just loves to see others do the same. Anya is a warm and loving person. Genuinely caring about people can hurt, but Anya is one to help people out, if she can. Though it is not always obvious from her vivacious antics, Anya knows what it’s like to be hurt and one thing she cannot stand is to see others hurt.
Anya is a stubborn person, she is proud, and these are two traits that do not often go well hand-in-hand. When her dander is up, she has quite the temper and this has been known to put her in quite the pickle. When she’s angry, she can be quite judgmental, which never ends well. Seeing things mostly in black and white isn’t especially helpful, either. Anya might mean well, but sometimes all these weaknesses get the better of her, forcing her to be rash, jump to conclusions and, ultimately, to hurt people in ways she inevitably regrets. Sometimes, just meaning well just isn’t enough.
Anya’s temper is as scalding as it is sudden. Spoiled her entire life and abruptly denied everything after it, she has become a coiling cobra, ready to lash out in self-defense at the most unexpected impetus. In fact, she may be a little overzealous – she never did learn discipline. A reactive person, she was always impetuous and when an idea occurs to her, she acts, consequences be damned. What she wants, she wants; what she hates, she hates and she often has trouble admitting she’s wrong. Anya is, afterall, literally a princess. Deep down, however, she’s still the tender person she always was: her walls are simply much higher and much thicker. She’s much too accustomed to loss and rejection, by now, to be completely open and a part of her is always on the ready to pick up and run or turn and fight because her long life has taught her that everybody dies – even the old ones – and sooner or later everyone will turn on her. The only thing she hasn’t yet cut out of her heart is her family, but they don’t even know her.
Though she can be stubborn, she is also quite compassionate and can err on the side of sensitive. She is, however, unwilling to back down from her principles and will stick to her guns if the occasion calls for it. Despite this, she does believe in second chances, for the most part. There is, however, one line that is unforgivable if crossed: if someone ever hurt her loved ones, Anya will destroy them in whatever way her anger sees best. She never forget it and she will make sure the perpetrator won’t, either; certainly the perpetrator will never be allowed within ten miles of her loved ones, again, if she can help it.
When actually incited to anger, the usually kind and sensible girl can be rash and incredibly blunt. At that point, she will let you know exactly what she thinks of you and, unfortunately, sometimes even blurt out things she later wishes she could take back. Nonetheless, she is capable of admitting when she’s wrong (if with some degree of difficult)…but on the other hand, even if she regrets saying it out loud, if she believes she was right she will never take it back because, well, that would be dishonest. Unfortunately, she hasn’t quite mastered the art of the little white lie. Anya does, afterall, tend to see things in black and white and doesn’t always see the shades of grey that border in between.
On another level, however, she’s open – even if she’s ready to bolt at any moment. She is all heat and always was. She never had it in her to be cold and so, when she fights, she gives it her all. Anya pours everything she is into everything she does, fighting to seize each moment. She believes in people, however, in her own way. Both an excellent listener and happy to help those around her, Anya genuinely wants to do the right thing – she just doesn’t always know what that is. It isn’t hard to find her, either. Just check your local library or the nearest quiet corner and you’ll find her curled up with her latest book or trailing thoughtfully through the nearest museum (when she was in England, she had the odd, uncomfortable habit of showing up to weep at the Mercian and Viking exhibitions). Her habits have not only given her excellent study habits, but have ensured that she is very knowledgeable on a rather vast range of subjects. She has great problem-solving skills and is good at not only finding some agreeable compromise for everyone involved, but also at extrapolating a lot from a little. A thousand years experience will do that for a girl. She’s quick to volunteer to help and she’s always happy to do.
Anya has been drawing since she was a child but, unlike most children, she never stopped. Drawing and painting are amongst her greatest passions and, if her life had been only slightly different, Anya might have been an artist. As it is, she’s immortal and signing work or appearing anywhere becomes a tricky state of affairs to maintain. Anonymity is a vampire’s best friend. Painting is one of the best ways of expelling her pent-up demons, of giving herself some rest and allowing the pacific world to flow through and around her in all its beauty and goodness. She fears a day when she might be deprived of her painting, when she can see only the bleak world around her and tremble, wishing for someone’s comforting arms around her – but she can’t even have that.
Gifted with a memory like a steel trap and an active, curious brain, Anya has certainly gotten herself into no end of trouble. She has also garnered a great deal of knowledge in the field of her greatest passion, history – not only because she’s lived through the past thousand years of it or because, given that, she had access to knowledge of even her past now lost, but because she has had the singlemindedness (and time) to pursue it. She is able to read and write hieroglyphs as well as Arabic, French, Italian, Latin, Greek and several other languages. Having devoured history since she was a small child, her brain is overflowing with knowledge on the subject. She also has several cartouches and passages, research, as well as others, committed to memory, making her encyclopedic when it comes to her field of interest.
Anya was always a vibrant and upbeat soul. Affectionate and kind-hearted, if terribly eccentric and a mite flippant and flamboyant, one thing Anya always is and was is lively. Though her behavior might come off as irritating and erratic to some, she can be viewed as charming and individual to others. Exceedingly intelligent and observant, she tends to be rather intuitive and creative but suffers from the same inconsistencies and abruptness that characterize many artists. She tends to be sudden, rarely ever planning ahead, and her entire existence tends to be one long ride by the seat of her pants. Nonetheless, she has always managed to see to it that everything works out and her laughter and optimism – secretly, a sword and a shield in her hand – can be infectious.
Anya is a true Leo and there is never any doubt as to when she’s in the room, given her vivacious personality and extroverted tendencies. Very cheery and out-going, she’s always loved people and likes little more than making them smile.
Anya has always been reckless and she learned the importance of picking up and letting go rather early – as a result she’s often a little too ready to do so. She doesn’t see her impact on others and often inadvertently hurts people and puts herself in bad positions thanks to her own variable state of mind. She tends to leap from thing to thing and has trouble settling down to just one idea or person or interest. This tends to breed discontent and impatience in her heart, which, if she’s not careful, can go sour, especially given how tightly she bottles things up inside. She needs to learn her place in the world and just how she really does impact people before she can really grow and change into a better, more stable woman. The truth is, she may be brave but one can’t be so without first being afraid – and that she most certainly is. She’s afraid to loose, afraid she’ll fail, afraid she’ll die before she finds what’s left of her family, afraid no one will ever remember the ones she loved and lost, and most of all, afraid to loose again.
Born in the Year of Our Lord 811 to King Coenwulf of Mercia and his queen, Aelfthryth, Anya was their third and last child. Her elder brother is widely regarded as a saint and her sister became a deposed Abbess, but history does not remember Anya. She took care that it should not.
Though only a backwater nation, Anya grew up with all the privileges of her rank – and all the duties. As a younger daughter, however, she was not as often looked to as her siblings and, in many ways, was spoiled. She had her father wrapped around her little finger and knew just how to get whatever she wanted. Despite this, however, her heart was pure. Anya always had a way of perceiving things about people and, rarely mistreated, her heart was gentle however much she sometimes wished to appear more worldly wise. Despite these things, she also had a stubborn streak and quite wanted to be active, to do things, to have her way. She rarely intentionally stomped on others, however, very much wanting to see everyone succeed.
In 834, Coenwulf promised his eldest daughter, Quendryda, to the Church, and betrothed his youngest daughter, Anya, to one of the leading men of his realm, Aelfhere. Anya was told what a great honor she had been given in the form of this man, but she could not bring herself to care much for him. Nonetheless, it was her father’s wish: to see to that she was cared for, after his death, and Anya did her best to resign herself to it…until she met a man named Raylan, two years later.
Raylan was the least suitable kind of man for a princess, but that did nothing to sway her. A Viking taken during a raid of Mercia, Raylan was doomed to die. While awaiting that day, Anya happened upon him by accident. He spoke to her of distant lands, of different ways. He treated her with honesty and said what he thought. Anya had never met anyone quite like him and fell under his charm quickly. So quickly, that she realized she could not allow him to die. She spent the week convincing her father to spare him. This, he eventually did, but Coenwulf would not permit Raylan to stay more than one day after his release, before being escorted to the shore and put on a ship set for his homeland. It was enough, and by the time Raylan left, Anya was unknowingly pregnant with twin girls.
Time passed. Anya learned of her delicate position – betrothed to one man while carrying the child (as she presumed) of another: an exiled barbarian, no less. The two lovers contrived to meet once or twice in secret, but it could not last. Time passed and Anya’s pregnancy became more and more obvious. Her father put out that the baby belonged to Anya’s fiancé, as it was quite common in those times for a betrothed couple to live together as it is now, and wishing to keep the king’s favor, Aelfhere did not object although he’d never once touched Anya.
That same year, Anya’s father died. One of the strongest rulers of the area, his death sent shockwaves through the realm and spread the seeds of rebellion. Anya was the youngest of the royal brood, preceded by two older siblings. Her sister, Quendryda, was the eldest: capable, intelligent, and ambitious; followed by a much younger brother, Kenelm: humble, gentle, and compassionate. When her younger siblings had been born – a boy included – Quendryda had been supplanted of what she regarded as her rightful place as heir to the Mercian throne.
When their father died, his men placed the heavy crown upon the brow of young Kenelm without a thought to Quendryda. Enraged, Quendryda called upon her lover, Askobert, who served in the new king’s household, to help her assassinate Kenelm. It would be the beginning of a grand coup in which Quendryda intended to wrest the crown from her brother’s cold, dead fingers, and place it upon her own brow. She knew, too, that if it were to work, foul play would be suspected and there were those who would rise up in Anya’s name, as a result. Quendryda realized that she needed to keep control of her sister, as well, and kill her if need be, as well.
At Quendryda’s insistence, Askobert beheaded the young king. Then the bloody purge began, ending those closest to the king, such as Anya’s fiancé. Quendryda seized her sister and put her under guard, putting around that the pregnant princess had died in childbed. Indeed, very soon upon her imprisonment, she went into labor and was delivered of two beautiful girls. As soon as they were weaned, they were taken from her – dangerous because of their royal blood. Anya found herself locked up, waiting for nothing or death and coming uncomfortably close to feeling what Raylan might’ve known in a similar situation, though without anyone to intercede for her.
Fortunately for the young mother, Quendryda’s bid for the throne was opposed and she was forced to withdraw back to the strong walls of her Abbey. Their uncle, Ceolwulf rode into the castle and reigned for only two years before he was overthrown. Going into the dungeons, he found his niece. He charged one of his most bloodthirsty knights with killing the girl. The knight was, unbeknownst to anyone, bloodthirsty for a reason: he was a vampire. He gave Anya a chalice of red, red wine – supplemented with his own blood – before stabbing her to death. Then he showed her body to her uncle before dumping it in a stream.
Anya awoke miles from home, afraid and disoriented, but certain she must find her family. She stumbled about, throat burning in a flame unquenchable by any water or wine, until blind throbbing instinct overtook her and she found her bloodlust. She began to learn what she was by trial and error – discovering she couldn’t go into the sun or eat or drink anything but blood; yet she was unspeakably fast and unswervingly strong, every sense exponentially sharpened…
Even in this nightly existence, she formed a plan. She would find a way to somehow cross the waters without ever seeing the sun. Then, she would find Raylan and, together, they would find their daughters. This plan was cut short when the news reached her that the man had died. Anya redoubled her efforts to find her babies, but the journey was thwarted by Anya’s own vampiric shortcomings as well as the fact that Mercia was plunged into chaos and civil war, following Anya’s uncle’s death. Still, she never gave up searching for her girls, despite the impediments.
She found one of them. Alfiva, was her name. Her hair was spun gold, her eyes shone like sapphires. Knowing Quendryda and her plots as she did, Anya knew to which servant the deed of ridding the world of the babes would fall and, from there, how it had turned out. One child had been lost track of in the turmoil that came from Quendryda’s deposition, but the other was traceable. Alfiva had been given to or perhaps stolen away by a serving woman from Quendryda’s very nose and given to a shepherd who longed for a child. Alfiva was already a young woman by the time Anya finally discovered her, and appeared only about five years younger than Anya, herself. They became friends, ageless Anya desperately unable to tell the girl that she was her birth mother.
Despite their friendship, Anya’s oddities were more than obvious to Alfiva – as well as the rest of the village. She only came out at night, she never ate or drank and, as time passed, she did not age. It did not take long for the whispers of ‘witch,’ heated the hamlet. One night, a group of the town’s bravest and boldest ambushed her. Anya was able to fight them off, given her new powers, and she was able to rescue Alfiva who had been dragged into the square to be burned by association. The two women fled into the woods together, but when morning came, Anya was forced to hide. When she emerged, Alfiva was gone – terrified. Anya let her go, realizing she had caused her more trouble than good, (though she continued to keep tabs on her from afar, to be sure she was safe).
Anya never found her other daughter, but she managed not to become too bitter. Instead, she saw it as hopeful. If the child hadn’t been found, she may still be alive. Afterall, finding Alfiva had nearly resulted in the poor girl being burned alive. Perhaps it was better for them each, if Anya never set eyes upon her second daughter – heart reding as the idea was. Besides, not seeing her gave Anya a reason to go on. Each evening, she had a reason to rise and go about her life. As time passed in vast swaths, Anya embraced it. She watched the world change, invested herself in the intrigues of inventions. Her joie de vieresumed. She felt as if she were living for three: Raylan and her missing daughter, as well as herself. The world was vast and beautiful and fascinating. Anya read everything she could get her hands on, she tried every new thing that came her way. She chose to embrace the fact that she could not stay one place for too long – it was a chance to start over. Everyone and everything would be fresh. People were all the more fascinating for the fact that they were so short lived. They became precious. Yet, in some occasions, they found ways to make their names immortal even in death. Anya did her best to remember every life she ever took – at least then they’d live forever in her. Their vibrancy was exhilarating and they had to grab every opportunity they had, for all too soon it would all be over. Anya wanted to be that new, that real.
When the Vampire Revelation swept the world and took it by storm, Anya chose to come out of the coffin. Now, she is coming to Oxford, chasing the thread she’s always chased. One of her daughter’s descendants once went this way and, thus, so will she…
Anastasia "Anya" Mercereau is TAKEN
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