Post by Katya Romanova on Jul 27, 2012 2:19:18 GMT -5
katya a n a s t a s i y a romanova
[/color][/font][/center]Because who I am Isn't who I used to be And I'm not invincible I'm not indestructible I'm only human Can't you see The beauty in me Erase this monster I've become Forgive me for all the damage done It's not over I'm begging for mercy I'm only the monster you made me
Its Better To Be Loved Than Feared,
[/color][/font]but if you can't be loved, fear will do.
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Regrets Are About Decisions That you Know You Should Have Done Different.
[/color][/font]When crime busting is easier than your personal life, something has gone seriously wrong.[/center]
Sex[/color]: Female
Age[/color]: Actually 39 - Appears 34
Sexual Orientation[/color]: Heterosexual
Ethnicity[/color]: Caucasian
Member Group[/color]: Wereleopard
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We Bring Up The Pain In Pieces So We Can Look At it In Small Bites.
[/color][/font]If it can bleed me, eat me, or fuck me, I want to write about it.[/center]
Hair[/color]: Black
Height & Weight[/color]: 5' 10" - 139 lbs.
Body Type[/color]: Slim - Athletic
Distinguishing Features[/color]:
- One piercing per earlobe
- Identification number branded into her right hip
- Multitude of scars
Animal Appearance[/color]:With a body that's one hundred and seventy centimeters long, the majority of that being her tail, which is one hundred centimeters long, she's no small joke. At the shoulder, she stands around seventy centimeters. As far as weight is concerned, she's about fifty kilograms, otherwise described as being about one hundred and ten pounds. The tip of her tail is slightly crooked, giving it a hook-like appearance and the cause behind it is unknown, although those that know her surmise it's because of her past. Her fur is a rich golden with a mixture of dark and light brown undertones and her pelt is speckled with medium-sized to large, black spots. The underside of her body is white with black spots. Her large eyes are a pale hazel and appear to be rather curious.
Face Claim[/color]: Angie Harmon
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If You Fear Nothing Then You Are Not Brave;
[/color][/font]You are merely too foolish to be afraid.[/i][/center]
- Soft, soothing music
- Coffee
- Relieving stress
- Being able to relax
- Hot baths
- Anything educational
- Pampering and/or treating herself
- Reading and writing
- Being prepared and/or well-informed
- Staying in shape
Dislikes[/color]:
- Conflict
- Loud noises
- Raunchy smells
- Filthy surroundings
- Complete silence
- Failure and/or having a plan fall apart
- Closed, tight spaces
- Feeling like and/or being a captive
- Relying on others
- Most emotions
Strength[/color]:
- High tolerance for pain
- Natural leader
- Loyal
Weaknesses[/color]:
- Short temper
- Impulsive
- Mistrustful, often to the point of paranoia
Fears[/color]:
- Being cornered
- Giving up her freedom
- Being betrayed
Secrets[/color]:
- Has nightmares every night
- Doesn't like who and what she's become
- Wants peace but won't hesitate to haul off and kick ass
Habits/Quirks[/color]:
- Can't sit still
- Has OCD tendencies
- Always planning
- Doesn't talk much, unless she feels the need to do so
- Automatically mistrusts others
- Makes sure she has a way to escape
- Quick to jump the gun and dash her plans
Overall Personality[/color]: The first word that comes to mind to describe her is rash. She is a passionate person that lets her emotions get the best of her most time. While she has the ability to be cool, cold and calculating, more often than not there is a deeply personal reason motivating her. She has an intense temper and will fly off the handle for some reason or another. She will react without thinking, often getting her into trouble in certain situations. She launches herself into things head-first, which partially explains her propensity to fail at what she sets out to do. When she does have the patience to sit down and plan, she can pull off some of the grandest schemes.
She is also stubborn and holds a good number of grudges. She angers easily, taking a lot of statements as insults, and as a result has made many enemies over the years. She acts on impulse but she doesn't think anything wrong with her behavior. As a result, even if a nagging thought in the back of her head tells her that a situation was her fault, she won't admit her responsibility. All of her fights remain unless the other party satisfactorily resolves it in her favor. She has a feeling of self-righteousness and believes that whatever she decides is right and everyone else is always wrong unless they agree with her.
She does have an uncanny ability to lead, if only from her headstrong personality and her willingness to do what it takes to accomplish a mission. While not necessarily the most inspiring leader, others have faith in her ability to get a job done. As long as they trust that she actually wants to do what they've set out to do, they follow her into any situation, sometimes to their loss. She leads more by example, force, and the control of knowledge that she gathers with her powers, making her effective in this role as head of a team.
She also has a soft spot for the very few people who win her trust. While these people are exceedingly rare, and one never does know if she really feels that way, she would never betray those who gain her ultimate trust. While not necessarily motherly, she does have a soft spot for children, even though she's only spent a few hours with her own child, granted it was through no fault of her own.
In addition to her rash personality, she is somewhat rational, certainly cunning, and has a deeply embedded survival instinct. She can look at situations with a chilly, even freezing logic, regarding human life and even some supernatural life with a disregard that comes only to the most experienced killers. She has a good mind for operations, and when she doesn't decide to deviate from a plan for emotional reasons, she is rarely beaten. Her mind adapts to situations quickly, deciding how to think fast on her feet. She follows instructions well, if they are to her liking, and she can prove to be an excellent operative when her loyalties aren't compromised. On the occasion where her own beliefs have clashed with her employer and she had little choice but to ally herself with that person, she can and will cast her own thoughts aside in the interest of self-preservation.
Deep down, she is actually a very lonely, guarded person. While she can charm and weave her way into the hearts of most men, she can never seem to let any of them in in return, even if she were so inclined. Her many romances have never lasted in anything substantial, mainly due to her lack of the ability to trust others. Despite this, all she seems to really want is to be able to share her life fully with someone. She somehow knows that no one would ever be able to handle her copious amount of secrets and baggage. She keeps her thoughts and emotions to herself with the exception of her blowouts, and that helps to make her one of the greatest operatives in the supernatural world.
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You Could Always Trust Jean-Claude To Survive. It Was One Of His Talents.
[/color][/font]I was almost sure it wasn’t one of Richard’s.[/center]
- Hidden scent
- Stealth
- Fluid change
- Touch causes quicker healing
- Night eyes
- Nimble climbing
Rank[/color]: Pard member
Effect on Character[/color]: Because her powers promote the ability to, for all intents and purposes, go undetected, she often reacts to situations in ways that most people wouldn't dare to do. The only downside is that it increases her paranoia, and she becomes startled rather easily.
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You Told Him To Lie To Me, Iris.
[/color][/font]You told him to bring his little stripper friend, so I'd die in peace. He's a fucking fairy and fucking coffin bait to boot.[/center]
Mothers Name[/color]: Yevpraksiya Romanova
Fathers Name[/color]: Dmitri Romanov
Siblings[/color]: Evgeniy Romanov, Grigoriy Romanov, Ilya Romanov
Pets[/color]: Faddei - Bengal cat - Neutered male - Click
Overall History[/color]: She was the youngest of her siblings and the only female to boot. What happened to them, she doesn't know. All she can do is pray that they are safe and are in good health. Her getting turned into what she is now was a mere mistake, brought on by the imbalance and sheer loss of logic that comes with young love. She and her boyfriend of two years were in the throes of passion, and he lost track of time. One moment, he's nestled comfortably between her thighs and the next, she's staring into the face of a leopard. She knew she should have been afraid, but she wasn't.
He was still the same person she had fallen for, even though he had found it just to hide such a monumental thing from her. Before she had the chance to push him away, he leaped off of her, leaving deep scores along her torso. First, there was pain then there was nothing. If it had been a normal injury, she would have died. Quite literally, her torso had been torn into ribbons. A day or so later, she woke up to find him naked and sobbing into his hands on the floor. The sheets were bloodstained and crusted.
She heard him asking her to forgive him, that he hadn't meant it. What was he talking about? Almost instantly after the query had popped into her head, the previous night came rushing back to her. Her fingers traced the red marks on her torso, which faded slowly beneath her fingers. She was stricken into silence, awestruck that such a thing could occur, to her of all people. Though she tried to console him, he shied away from her. The next month turned out to be even harder on her.
Her boyfriend had been killed by his pard for changing her, even though it had just been an accident. Because she was 'illegitimate' and the Nimir-Raj was a cruel, heartless bastard, she was an outcast. The Nimir-Ra was too afraid to speak against the king and thus, her first shift led to the hell she found herself in for the next decade. Typically, leopards aren't something you would find in the wild, let alone in a person's house. Immediately upon shifting, she traipsed the distance from the apartment she had shared with her late boyfriend to the home she had grown up in. The next morning, her brother, Grigoriy, found her asleep in his bed, which was where she had gone as a child whenever she had nightmares. His reaction had been natural: call the zoo and report that one of their animals had gone missing.
She wanted to beg him not to do it but all that came out was quiet whimpers and growls. She couldn't shift back, and she couldn't speak. She was trapped and when the people from the zoo came to collect her, she was powerless to stop them. She heard them murmuring amongst themselves. Apparently, finding a Sri Lankan Leopard in such mint condition was a rare find, and they were eager to get her back to the zoo, even though they hadn't been missing an animal in the first place. There was the sting of a needle then nothing. She had slipped back into that peaceful oblivion.
When she next woke up, she was curled up in a habitat. At some point, she had shifted back and she had the unpleasant sensation of cold stone against bare flesh. She was staring up into the face of another leopard, and she wasn't sure who looked more confused: her or the leopard. After a long silence, the leopard padded closer and curled up beside her, purring with its whiskers tickling the skin of a cheek. At first, she wasn't sure how to react to such a phenomenon so she just scratched behind its ears, much like one would with a dog. The purring grew louder and the tip of the big cat's tail began to flick back and forth. Their little reunion was cut short when a zookeeper came out to check on their catch.
He was in for a surprise when he saw the naked body of a young woman, no older than eighteen or nineteen. He was at a loss as he stripped his jacket off of his body and draped it over her, picking her up, much to the dismay of the leopard. The woman looked sickly and frail, covered in dirt. He brought her to his supervisor, whom seemed to know exactly what to do with her. Oh, the irony of a man that ran a zoo and led a secret organization of humans that sought to take down as many shifters as possible. When he had gotten her cleaned up and had taken care of her, he said four words that would have gotten her to follow him willingly to the ends of the earth. I can help you.
She had jumped at the chance, wanting to figure out what the hell was wrong with her. Where he took her next reeked of blood and fear. She tried to fight off the feeling that something was terribly wrong and as he escorted her into the building, she saw the body of a mutilated person being dragged away from a room that had the stink of death around it. She tried to shy away from it and a jolt suddenly attacked her body, driving her to her knees with a yelp. You're not going anywhere. A voice hissed behind her, making her blood run cold. He had seemed so nice in the zoo, so willing to help.
Rough hands grabbed hold of her, dragging her toward a room that held a plethora of cages. The majority of them were occupied. She gazed into the dirty faces of people that were just like her that were scared out of their damned minds. There were some there that were younger than her and others that were older or at least, looked to be older. Each one of them were naked, bloody, grimy, and had a number branded into their right hip, almost as if they were unimportant cattle. I'll be damned if your kind comes in my house and slaughters my family and I while we sleep. The vile man hissed, forcing her into a cage that was just big enough for her to crouch in.
The next day was even worse. They stripped away her clothing and branded her with the numbers '493,' much like they had the others. From there, they took her to an even smaller room, and she watched in silence as her dark hair fell to the floor chunk by chunk. She didn't dare fight back because her eyes were, quite literally, level with the barrel of a gun. After she felt lower than dirt, they made her mood even worse. Apparently, shaving her head, depriving her of clothing, and branding her hadn't been enough. Before she could even think to protest, she was strapped to a cold, metal table and staring up at people that held frightening, metal tools that would bring more harm than anything else.
As the tools bit into her flesh, she whimpered and fought to think of better things. Of course, they also experimented on her while she was in her leopard form. After a year of going through that, she was subjected to reproduction experiments. Another year had gone by before they managed to impregnate her. Nine months later, the boy was born stillborn, which they found rather fascinating. She had wanted to see the child and barely caught a glimpse of it before they took him away to be autopsied. It crushed her and for the next three months, she just sort of shut down.
For the next eight years, they experimented mercilessly on her. Approaching her twenty-ninth birthday, when she could barely lift her head to face the commotion, uniformed officers busted in. All she could think to do was whimper and call out hoarsely for help. After arresting all of the personnel and air lifting the surviving shifters out of there, she was given a week to rest. When that week had come to an end, she was given an ultimatum: stay and reveal what she was or be transferred to any country of her choosing. In a split second, she made her decision: be transferred to New Orleans, Louisiana. Naturally, she also took advantage of the government's willingness to help.
She begged them to let her take her 'son,' Aleksandr. They hesitantly agreed. Both she and the boy were transferred and put under government asylum at the request of the Russian government. During the seven years that followed, she and Aleksandr both gained citizenship. When they gained their citizenship, Katya was thirty-six and Aleksandr was twenty-one. Now, Katya is thirty-nine and Alexsandr is twenty-four. They're both trying to find their own niche in society and during the time they've spent together, they've become almost inseparable.
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Is It Better To Outmonster The Monster or To Be Quietly Devoured?
[/color][/font]When you dance with the devil, you might as well be a devil who can give you your own corner of hell to rule.[/center]
She frowned. Erik was doubting her and apparently, her sincerity as well. She didn't know how to respond, other than pursing her lips and allowing silence to ensue. "Really, Erik? After all, we've been through, you think I fell for that new face of yours?" When she finished speaking, a heavy sigh left her lips. How in the world would she be able to explain it without upsetting him or only confusing him further?
She shifted awkwardly. "I have a new face for every day of the week, Erik, and I'm one hundred and thirty-seven years old. Humans would call me a cougar if they knew my true age and how I was expressing myself to you. If my words cannot convince you, perhaps a memory can." She sifted through her vast collection of various memories, struggling to pick just the right one for the occarion. Of course, at her age, certain things had blurred together and a good portion of her memories had been blocked out. The only thing she got from those blocked memories was anger, which fueled her.
She thought she found the right one, at last. "Shortly after we had taken Senator Kelly, you and I were standing in front of him. I was standing to your right with my left arm draped around your neck. Your hand held mine, and we smiled at each other then parted. I moved to stand beside Sabertooth, and you went to your machine." She hesitated and let her teeth sink into her lower lip. She was far from used to this.
Now that she had opened her big mouth, however, it was too late to go back. Surprisingly, she didn't want to take it back. "If my memory is correct, you were a wrinkled man back then." Her tone was teasing with an underlying hint of seriousness. It was when they stood face-to-face and his fingers ran through her hair that she began to relax. Her hand took his and brought it to her cheek and from there, she just rested her cheek against his palm, allowing her eyes to close. She found her head bobbing slightly to his words, silently acknowledging that he had, in fact, spoken.
She didn't know what it was about Erik that drove her nuts, and she wanted to find out. In one hundred and thirty-seven years, she had only come close to this level of emotion with one other person, and she had been killed on the street by a mugger while Myst had been away on a mission. With Erik, not only did she feel as if a wall of emotions was crashing down on her but physically, she felt like she could take on the world, no matter what. Certainly, at her age, she had been with other people but this far, Erik was the only one that had made her feel...alive.. At the mention of drinks, she perked up. "I can get it." She said automatically, going to his minibar.
At her age, the only perk was that her head was filled with immeasurable knowledge. She put ice in both of the glasses then mixed a Black Russian for him and a Godfather for herself. Even though she never ate much, she could knock back alcohol with the best of them. Hell, she could probably outclass anybody in a drinking game and when asked how or where she had learned to do such a thing, she always replied with the same answer: years of experience. She wasn't exaggerating when she said such things. She had learned early on that if you want to be great at something, you have to never stop practicing. Maybe that's why she had such a great poker face.
It might even explain her high pain tolerance then again, maybe she was just too stubborn to call it quits. Her life followed the words of a few mottoes, one of her favorites being: no pain, no gain. She blinked, snapping out of whatever daze she had put herself in. Picking up both of the glasses, she brought his to him and blinked, tilting her head. "Try it." She insisted softly, her yellow eyes full of curiosity and impatience. To some, she may have even looked like a kid in a candy store.
About the only person that saw this softer side of her was Erk. Around him, she didn't always feel like she had to fight, just to survive. Her stomach did a flip-flop as she brought her glass to her lips and took a sip, allowing the liquid to burn a fiery path down her throat. "I think I'd be the last person on the planet to fall for somebody's looks. Girls like me, we..." She stopped herself and looked down into her glass, thinking over the words that had been about to roll off of her tongue. No matter how much she told herself she was in good company and could say what she felt, she didn't feel any better.
If anything, the notion only made her feel worse. "We like a man that can take charge." She said finally, sounding rather matter-of-fact about it. She felt warmth flood her face and was glad that her skin hid the red blush that had suddenly taken over. "I might be a tough bitch, but even I need guidance. You're a leader, and you practice what you preach." She took another sip of her drink, trying unsuccessfully to will her nerves to calm down.
Was this what love felt like all the time, or was this a special case? More butterflies and a nauseating, dizzying sensation suddenly came over her. This had to be about the hardest thing that she had ever done. "Your face has changed, certainly but what I fell for, your ideals and your personality, has not." Another pause as she bit her lip. "The reason I fell for you was because you knew what you wanted, and you weren't going to let a damned thing stand in your way but at the same time, you also followed the rules in your own playbook, acted as a leader to those that needed it, and guided those that felt ashamed of their mutation, whatever their reason might be." Her lip quirked, and a faint chuckle left her lips as she finished speaking.
She shifted awkwardly. "I have a new face for every day of the week, Erik, and I'm one hundred and thirty-seven years old. Humans would call me a cougar if they knew my true age and how I was expressing myself to you. If my words cannot convince you, perhaps a memory can." She sifted through her vast collection of various memories, struggling to pick just the right one for the occarion. Of course, at her age, certain things had blurred together and a good portion of her memories had been blocked out. The only thing she got from those blocked memories was anger, which fueled her.
She thought she found the right one, at last. "Shortly after we had taken Senator Kelly, you and I were standing in front of him. I was standing to your right with my left arm draped around your neck. Your hand held mine, and we smiled at each other then parted. I moved to stand beside Sabertooth, and you went to your machine." She hesitated and let her teeth sink into her lower lip. She was far from used to this.
Now that she had opened her big mouth, however, it was too late to go back. Surprisingly, she didn't want to take it back. "If my memory is correct, you were a wrinkled man back then." Her tone was teasing with an underlying hint of seriousness. It was when they stood face-to-face and his fingers ran through her hair that she began to relax. Her hand took his and brought it to her cheek and from there, she just rested her cheek against his palm, allowing her eyes to close. She found her head bobbing slightly to his words, silently acknowledging that he had, in fact, spoken.
She didn't know what it was about Erik that drove her nuts, and she wanted to find out. In one hundred and thirty-seven years, she had only come close to this level of emotion with one other person, and she had been killed on the street by a mugger while Myst had been away on a mission. With Erik, not only did she feel as if a wall of emotions was crashing down on her but physically, she felt like she could take on the world, no matter what. Certainly, at her age, she had been with other people but this far, Erik was the only one that had made her feel...alive.. At the mention of drinks, she perked up. "I can get it." She said automatically, going to his minibar.
At her age, the only perk was that her head was filled with immeasurable knowledge. She put ice in both of the glasses then mixed a Black Russian for him and a Godfather for herself. Even though she never ate much, she could knock back alcohol with the best of them. Hell, she could probably outclass anybody in a drinking game and when asked how or where she had learned to do such a thing, she always replied with the same answer: years of experience. She wasn't exaggerating when she said such things. She had learned early on that if you want to be great at something, you have to never stop practicing. Maybe that's why she had such a great poker face.
It might even explain her high pain tolerance then again, maybe she was just too stubborn to call it quits. Her life followed the words of a few mottoes, one of her favorites being: no pain, no gain. She blinked, snapping out of whatever daze she had put herself in. Picking up both of the glasses, she brought his to him and blinked, tilting her head. "Try it." She insisted softly, her yellow eyes full of curiosity and impatience. To some, she may have even looked like a kid in a candy store.
About the only person that saw this softer side of her was Erk. Around him, she didn't always feel like she had to fight, just to survive. Her stomach did a flip-flop as she brought her glass to her lips and took a sip, allowing the liquid to burn a fiery path down her throat. "I think I'd be the last person on the planet to fall for somebody's looks. Girls like me, we..." She stopped herself and looked down into her glass, thinking over the words that had been about to roll off of her tongue. No matter how much she told herself she was in good company and could say what she felt, she didn't feel any better.
If anything, the notion only made her feel worse. "We like a man that can take charge." She said finally, sounding rather matter-of-fact about it. She felt warmth flood her face and was glad that her skin hid the red blush that had suddenly taken over. "I might be a tough bitch, but even I need guidance. You're a leader, and you practice what you preach." She took another sip of her drink, trying unsuccessfully to will her nerves to calm down.
Was this what love felt like all the time, or was this a special case? More butterflies and a nauseating, dizzying sensation suddenly came over her. This had to be about the hardest thing that she had ever done. "Your face has changed, certainly but what I fell for, your ideals and your personality, has not." Another pause as she bit her lip. "The reason I fell for you was because you knew what you wanted, and you weren't going to let a damned thing stand in your way but at the same time, you also followed the rules in your own playbook, acted as a leader to those that needed it, and guided those that felt ashamed of their mutation, whatever their reason might be." Her lip quirked, and a faint chuckle left her lips as she finished speaking.
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