STANOVSKI, Anastasia Dimitrovna

[anastasia]

Anastasia Dimitrovna Stanovski

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MYNAMEIS: Anastasia Dimitrovna Stanovski
IAM: eighteen years old
BORNON: January 1st, 1993
SPECIES: demigod

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PLAYEDBY: Michelle Trachtenberg
HEIGHT: 5 feet 7 inches (about 1.68 cm)
WEIGHT: 110 pounds (about 49 kg)
APPEARANCE: Anastasia’s hair slightly wavy and a mixture of different shades of brown, starting from somewhat of a reddish-brown, chestnut color at the roots and lightening along the way down to the tips. It’s her original color and she has no intention of changing it. She flat irons her hair and keeps it down most of the time, but she puts it up in a high ponytail every now and then to keep it out of her eyes, usually when dancing.

Her eyes are small and almond-shaped, framed by long, thick lashes that are usually coated with mascara; the color of her irises ranges from dark blue around the pupils, to a much lighter, much softer shade of blue when nearing the sclera. Her gaze is sharp and cold and uncompromising, much like the ice she is able to produce as a granddaughter of the god of the north wind and the bringer of winter, and a daughter of the goddess of snow.

Anastasia is thin and lean. It’s difficult for her to gain weight, but not because she doesn’t eat much and not because of a fast metabolism, but because her diet consists of healthy food alone – no chocolate, no candies, and no greasy Big Macs from McDonalds (as mouthwatering as those might seem, at times). She also practices her ballet twice a week for seven years now, ever since she started going to dance lessons, so she doesn’t have much muscle tone from the waist up.

Asia is also very pale – probably the palest person you’ll ever meet; her skin is almost as white as snow, as she is commonly described, which give her quite the unhealthy (and even deathly) look. Her face is almost never flushed, even after a long and exhausting dance practice, and even when it is, the color her cheeks get is the faintest shade of red and is almost unnoticeable. Her concerned mother sent her to the doctor many times, but despite how sick she looks, Anastasia is as healthy as possible and was never even close to being anemic.

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STRENGTHS:
01. ambitious
02. oragnized
03. calm and collected even in stressful situations
04. observant
05. polite
06. neat
07. driven
08. intelligent

WEAKNESSES:
01. perfectionist
02. petty
03. slightly obsessive-compulsive
04. guarded
05. a pushover
06. dyslexic
07. has a hard time dealing with and expressing her emotions
08. over achiever
09. obsessed with winning and being the best

TALENTS:
01. designing clothes
02. dancing
03. playing the piano (although she always hated it, so it’s not much of a hobby]
04. the abilities she inherited from her mother, which include: creating and manipulating snow, lowering the temperature, slight control over ice, and high resistance to coldness.

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BORNIN: Moscow, Russia
LIVING IN: Los Angeles, California // Camp Half-Blood
FAMILY: Dimitri Stanovski – father; 42; engineer
Khione – mother; ageless; goddess of snow
Klara Stanovski – her father’s wife and who she grew up thinking was her biological mother; 40; former model, currently a doctor
Natasha Stanovski – sister; 18; college student
HISTORY: Anastasia was born in Moscow, Russia, on January 1st 1993, as the second daughter of her parents. She was born into a proud Jewish family of well known engineers, doctors, economists and businessmen, and raised in an environment that taught her that second place’s simply not enough for the Stanovski family. Growing up, she learned that if she would aim for the stars, maybe she’ll reach the sky as well – and that was what she did. Anastasia started taking piano lessons when she was only six years old, then ballet when she was eight and even chess not long after. She didn’t like some of the lessons but she never even dreamt to protest. Money was never the problem, since both her parents – an engineer and a doctor – had a well-paid career; they gave her the best possible: the best education, the best clothes, the best, well, everything. Anastasia got used to getting whatever she wanted and needed, yes, but she didn’t take that for granted. She learned soon enough that if she wanted to grow up and be a respectable young woman with a good career, she would just have to be her best – at everything.

Asia was diagnosed with dyslexia only a few weeks after she started second grade. That particular period of her childhood wasn’t a pleasant one, and that is exactly why she remembers it all too well – how she got home from school (on her own, of course. Her parents had better things to do than to walk their child back home every afternoon) just to find both her parents sitting in the living room, and how she thought something bad must have happened because of the serious expressions they wore. Her mother was the first one to speak. The teacher called, she told her, to inform them that it seems that their daughter is having trouble keeping up with the pace of the rest of the class. Asia was a very slow reader in comparison to her classmates; it wasn’t a positive thing, of course, but in her parents’ terms it equaled a catastrophe. She can still recall, in detail, the look of disappointment her father gave her, and her wish to never make her father look at her that way ever again was what drove her to swear it was the first and hopefully last failure of hers. Quite unusual for a second grader.

After deciding that being dyslexic simply meant she would have to work a lot harder, Anastasia kept putting everything she had into school. It was obvious, to anyone who ever knew her, that she was going to do something with her life – go to college, that is. She had the aspiration and the wits, and her parents had the money; her older sister, Natasha, was already attending college, and so it was only natural to follow her lead. Naturally, her parents wanted her to be a doctor, just like her sister intended to, but what Asia didn’t tell them is that she had no desire to be “just like her sister”. She was afraid to. What she really wanted to do was to be a fashion designer, but it was a job her parents would have never approved of and she knew it.

But then everything changed. Her father, Dimitri, got a call from the company he was working for. He was offered a very promising job at a new company that was owned by the same person that he was working for: he was promised better conditions, and more importantly, a higher salary. It was an offer he just couldn’t refuse, no matter how reluctant he was to leave Russia – since the job he was offered required the whole family to move from Moscow to the United States, and more specifically to Los Angeles, California.

The sudden move to a whole new continent was quite the shock for Anastasia. She was only fourteen when they moved to Los Angeles, still a teenager with all the typical problems most teenagers have, like feeling the need to be a part of something and – because of how she was raised – desperately wanting to be the best, to be perfect. She had a rough time, although she would never admit that weakness to anyone (even to herself), but her parents didn’t teach her to give up. Not quickly and not at all; she was in it to win it. Asia launched herself into learning English, a language she knew bits of from school, and simultaneously trying to keep up with all of her hobbies, get to know the new culture, the new people and her new surroundings.

Only about four years after they moved from Moscow to Los Angeles, just as Anastasia was turning eighteen and just when she thought she was doing a good job of blending in America – everything once again changed. A classmate of hers came to her, telling her that the principal wanted her in his office. Worried and nervous, but unsuspecting of anything unusual, Asia followed her into an empty office – and from that point on, she remembers nothing. She woke up in a bed that wasn’t hers, wearing clothes that weren’t from her own closet, but mostly very, very confused.

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ALIAS: Dennie
HOWYOUFOUNDUS: an ad on another site
OTHERCHARACTERS: none… at the moment xD
RP SAMPLE:

One of Aphrodite’s powers was having the… ability – she had no better word to describe how exactly it worked – of sensing other people’s feelings, and sometimes, when she put enough power into her words or if she was dealing with a particularly weak mind, she could even manipulate the feelings to her will. It wasn’t much of an ability, really; it was all very vague, very uncertain, and most of the times she couldn’t quite make out the right feelings out of the confusing clutter of emotions she sensed.

She would have been tempted to use that ability now, when finally meeting Ares after such a long time of desperately trying to avoid him and forget everything that had happened, but she didn’t. Not because she didn’t want to – oh, what she would give to really know what passed through his mind, what was he thinking about her – but because, frankly, he was so easy to read that she didn’t even need to make much of an effort. The god of war was like an open book under her observant eyes: Aphrodite saw how his grip on the sword he was holding loosened, how he looked away, and most importantly the disappointment that was clear on his features.

The bright side? It was obvious, or at least she hoped, that he didn’t want to kill her.

For a second there, when facing the other god, the façade she was desperately holding onto slipped out of her nimble fingers. Just for a moment Aphrodite’s face showed exactly what she felt: humiliated, guilty, hurt, even betrayed; and angry, too – angry that she cheated on her husband with Ares from all people, angry that they got caught; she wasn’t sure who she was more upset with, with Ares somehow managing to play her so well, or with herself, for stupidly letting him do so.

But then she managed to get a grip on herself and her face smoothened back into the cold, unfeeling mask she found herself wearing more and more these days. She was practiced with hiding her emotions, after all these years of making herself seem hard to get when she really wasn’t that tough to play. Holding her head high proudly – or at least trying to – Aphrodite carefully smoothened down her white dress then folded her arms across her chest. “Thank you,” she started slowly, as if to weigh her words before speaking them out, “I’m glad I decided to come back.”

And then she continued before she could stop herself, “It’s good to – “ what was she going to say? It’s good to see you? No, she can’t say that, she can’t risk another rejection. “…to be home again,” she finished softly and mentally kicked herself for being such a fool. They were right, all these people saying things about her, she really was stupid and useless. Good for nothing aside from messing with people’s life and having affairs only to get herself hurt, it seems.

[JESSE]

ACCEPTED! And hooray for pianists! <3