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Nov 21, 2009, 2:18pm

Box 2029 :: Database :: Character Concerns :: Accepted Applications :: Aleksandra Fedorov

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Topic: Aleksandra Fedorov (Read 21 times)

Aleksandra Fedorov
Villain
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Joined: Aug 2009
Gender: Female

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Aleksandra Fedorov
« Thread Started on Aug 16, 2009, 3:48pm »

Name: Kimi
Age: Eighteen
RP Experience: Five Years
Other Characters on this Site: None

Avatar: Christina Ricci
Name: Aleksandra Fedorov
Alias: Alek
Custom Title: Queen Of The Basket
Custom Title Color: Blue Deep
Custom Title Color Code: #380474
Age: Twenty Three
Affiliation: Villain
Ability: None
Family:

Raisa Lebedev Fedorov;; Aleksandra's birth mother. She was disowned when news of her pregnancy with Alek out of wedlock went public. The no longer wanted anything to do with their daughter when such a scandal damaged the reputation of their family. On top of that, they considered Vladislav, Raisa's boyfriend, to be complete and utter trash. And so, they left Raisa alone. Pregnant without the support of the family that she needed most. Because of this sudden and violent abandonment, Raisa began to grow cold, even towards the man that she loved most. Of course, when he asked her to marry him, she agreed, but that was only out of convenience. She couldn't be entirely without a home. Her love for him started to fade until she was only annoyed by his presence. When Alek was born, Raisa showed little interest in her, only giving the child what little attention was required to keep her alive. When the child was a year old, and not so dependent on her mother, Raisa stopped caring for her and went to work, eventually becoming a very successful defense lawyer. From that point on, she was never home. Alek does not see Raisa as a mother, and as such she has since cut off all contact.
Vladislav Fedorov;; Aleksandra's birth father. He ran away from home when he was seventeen years old. He managed to get by doing remedial, odd jobs. Still, he thought his life would never have any true happiness in it. That was until he met Raisa Lebedev when he was merely nineteen years of age. He adored everything about her from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Her gentle smile, he soft skin, her deep brown eyes. He wanted her. He loved her. He was sure of it. Being determined, and quite the charmer, it was only a matter of time before Raisa did indeed love him in return. And from the very first moment that their lops touched, the romance was hot, and sweet, and passionate, and soft, and gentle and absolutely perfect. His love for Raisa grew until it was much more than just a childish fondness. It became a plant in full bloom. A rose. Vlad would do anything for her. But he never dreamed that this would be tested. However, it was, when Raisa came to him with news of her pregnancy. Of course, he was behind her all the way, but looking back on his life now, he would have probably reconsidered the choice to stand by her. When her parents cast her out, he offered her a home. He gave her everything. He gave up his life to support her. And how did she repay him? With a cold indifference that chilled Vlad to the very marrow of his bones. Still, he asked her to marry him, because that was all he could do. And even though he foresaw the difficult and miserable life that was before he, he submitted to his fate. And for a while, it was like being married to a statue. Raisa would find some place to sit, and stare at the walls. She would stroke her stomach with a deep scowl on her lips. She looked at Vlad with hate filled eyes. She despised him. And when he thought things couldn't get worse, Aleksandra was born. The child was wonderful, small and delicate. Just like her mother. The same eyes. But not even that mended Raisa's heart. And so Vlad was left to watch as she pulled further and further away until with one last blow, she abandoned the both of them. From that point on, Vlad quit his job and stayed home with their daughter. He raised her, but he was bitter. He was rundown. And as such, he was not a full father. He was just a shell of the man he used to be. Someone who ran through the motions just because he had to, just because those were his duties. To himself and to his child. These days, Alek does not speak to him. He was the closest thing to a loved on that she had ever had, but she knows that the only thing she does for him is remind him of the nightmare that he is still living. She feels she owes it to him to never show herself to him ever again. At least let him have peace from her, because he can never have peace from himself.

Physical Appearance
Eyes: While most people's eyes are said to be a gateway to the soul, filled with infinite expression, Alek's eyes show no characteristics of that. Her eyes are brown, a warm brown. Eyes that one would think would be friendly and wonderful. However, when one looks into her eyes, they see nothing. They see flat surfaces. Deep pools with no bottoms. Eyes that seem to always be in a haze. That never seem to completely focus on anything, as if their mind is always preoccupied with some darker purpose. Eyes that seem to have no interest in the world around them. And truth be told, Alek probably doesn't have an interest for anything.
Hair: Her hair is a cobalt black. Cut in a shaggy short way. It looks as if it was shorn off with a blunt blade, all the layers uneven with wisps of hair sticking every which way. She wears it well, letting it hang around her face, a stark contrast to her pale skin.
Skin: Alek's skin is devoid of any usual markings. In fact, one would say that it is eerily blank. Shockingly pale and as soft as baby's breath. There isn't even a sign of a freckle on it's white expanse.
Body Type: Standing at five feet eight inches and weighing in at one hundred and fifteen pounds, Aleksandra is slim and slender. She has some muscles underneath the skin of her arms and her legs, but not so much that they are particularly defined. Still, she has a body built for speed and flexibility. And it is obvious that she has worked hard to get her body to the condition that it is currently at. At the peak of physical fitness.

Personality: Alek does not make friends. She repels just about everyone. She is sarcastic and sharp tongued and always says more than what needs to be said. ESPECIALLY if the words are meant to cut someone down. She always seems impersonal and uncaring, stepping all over the emotions of others. Of course, this is partly because she was never able to channel out any of the hurt that filled her soul as a child. This raw and bottled up emotion became years and years of issues that were never dealt with. Until not even a good shrink and great pills could cure the ailments of this girl. Sure, she may not be all there, but that does not mean that she has completely lost herself. She is hysterical at times, but mostly she is still very calculating. Of course, sometimes her anger gets the best of her and she acts out of frustration or pure rage, but what can you expect. When you have no more room within yourself to bottle up emotions, where else can they go?

History: Alek was never a girl who wore her emotions on her sleeve. She was always calm and calculating. Even at a young age. But, that is how one ends up when they live in a household where there is no love to speak of. She took to hiding her true feelings to avoid confrontations with either of her parents, and she always pushed herself to do her very best. She was a child who stayed under the radar. And purposefully so. Still, she sought the approval of others. Every child deserves to be loved and appreciated to some degree, and so, Alek sought that approval in others. She was always polite and genial. She never did anything wrong, and she always helped those in need. She was ever ready to extend her help and love to a stranger in need, and while she never made any true 'friends' she had many people who admired and adored her.

She was a sweet child, not that her parents ever knew that, and she loved life, or thought she did, despite the harshness of her reality. However, this changed when she was around fifteen years old. Her friendliness and sweet nature were bound to draw the attention of those who would like to take advantage. And it did, when she was fifteen, drawing a man who Alek had trusted with her story. Someone who she let all of her problems out to. Her teacher, a certain Mr. Boris Golovnin. He helped her feel wanted again, and he encouraged her to learn and grow as both a student and a person. He took her under his wing and let her know that she was a beautiful person. And she believed him. She drank up his attention until she was absolutely nothing more than a puppet to his will. It was an unhealthy relationship, almost an obsession, but she trusted him completely. That had never happened before. Trust had never been a luxury she could afford. This trust was how she realized that he was a man with... a strange ability.

She was heading to his classroom after school hours had ended. She knew that he often stayed there correcting papers for a few hours. So, she figured there would be absolutely no issue with stopping by for a little chat. She had bought him an apple at lunch hour and she was raring to give it to him, just to see the familiar smile on his face. However, as stood in the doorway to the familiar room, peeking through the small window to make sure that her teacher was there before entering, her eyes beheld the strangest thing that they had ever seen. There was Mr. Golovnin, sitting behind his desk as he normally did, but there was something amiss. He was sitting there, still as ever, but papers were shifting and floating in the air. A stack of papers would float from the paper bin to his desk and he would look over them for a few moments, letting a pen that was poised in mid air write something on each paper, without guidance from a hand. Then the papers would float back to the bin, graded. She was shocked to say the least. And because she couldn't make sense of it, she fled. And did not come to school the next day. Mr. Golovnin called house and her father just reported that the girl was home sick. The concern touched the girl, and inspired her to attend school the very next day. Of course, she stayed after class to speak with him. She was nervous and very aware that she only had a few minutes until her next class. But she attempted the confrontation. Mr. Golovnin answered her interrogation with a small smile and asked her to come to his classroom after school. He promised to discuss it then.

She returned, just as he had asked. And he explained that he was part of a slowly growing group of humans. Well, perhaps not humans. Perhaps it was safer to say a side branch of humans, an evolved, superior form. These evolved humans had powers. A wide range of them. And he was only one. He was harmless. He had never hurt a fly. And she was the soul person who knew of his power. The fact that he had confided all of this in her made Alek feel special. She felt as if she DID have a purpose greater than living her life day by day. And she grew ever closer to Mr. Golovnin. She had a strong interest in his ability, and he offered to give her after school lessons on these people like him. Alek enthusiastically agreed.

These lessons commenced and went on for about a year and a half. During this time, Mr. Golovnin earned her trust, biding his time and slowly made small advances, getting more frequent and more obvious as time went on. It began to frighten her, but she was scared to mention it. Scared to tell him. She may lose his friendship if she did. but things got worse. He began to touch her in places that she was not comfortable with. He began to press clumsy kisses to her neck that made her frown and shiver in disgust. This went on until she confronted him about this as well. She refused him advances and pushed him away. This angered him and he smacked her hard across this face. She began to sob, making noise. And his hand was over her mouth in an instant. She tried to scream, she tried to fight him. She tried absolutely everything she could, but she was no match for him. He used his power and his brute strength to incapacitate her. Clumsy, enraged hands tore at her clothes and pressed her body hard against his desk. And that was how he took her. In that single act of violence. In the span of an hour. Her trust was broken, her body bruised. And he left her there, to gather her clothing and limp her way home. She never returned to his classroom. She switched out of his classes and avoided him at all costs. Her spirit was broken, and in her mind was planted a seed of hysteric fear.

Following the rape, Alek retreated completely into herself. She never told anyone about the experience, but she slowly drove herself mad with the truth of the matter, until the only thing that was left in her mind was a deep black scar. She made the connection that he had used her. He had earned her trust and then took advantage of her. And because he had used his powers to harm her, she assumed that every person with abilities was a liar. An abuser. Someone who took time to gain trust and then shattered someone's world. Perhaps it was not a rational conclusion, but it made sense to her. It made sense to blame someone. To blame something. Because if she blames herself, she would have no one else to turn to. She was the only one that she could trust. She was the only one that would never cause herself any harm. She was safe. She was the only safe person. And so, she stayed alone. Locking her sweet self away and emerging a mean, bitter person. She was harsh and sharp tongued. She never made friends. She became hysterical. She formulated plans for revenge. But Mr. Golovnin quit. And she had no idea where he was. She vowed to find him. And kill him.

She graduated from high school with nearly a perfect GPA. And once she was out of school for good, she moved all of her possessions out of her parent's home and disappeared from the radar. No one really knows what happened to her. No one but herself. The truth of the matter is, that was the way she wanted it. She didn't want anyone to find her. She didn't want the world to know who she was. She didn't want to know them. And in this time of solitude, she slowly trained herself. Trained herself in the art of killing. She was eighteen when this training began.

Four years later, she was finally ready. She looked up her former teacher. Watched him for a few months. She found out how he lived his life. She memorized his schedule. And then when she knew he was alone, she moved in. She made her move. She screwed a silencer onto her pistol and moved into his home. Making not a sound, moving like a shadow. Her steps were silent. Her eyes narrowed. And as soon as he realized what was going on, she shot him. Faster than he could react. But she didn't feel any satisfaction. She didn't feel happy. She didn't feel relief. She felt nothing. This was not enough. She had to put a stop to ALL the evolved humans. She had to end it all. She couldn't live knowing that there were more beings like him. So, she took her deluded reality, and ran with it. She wasn't going to let any evolved humans live. She would hunt them down. And she would kill them.

RP Sample: There he was. He was home. Finally. She had only been hiding outside of his house for five hours. He was late tonight. Later than usual. But it was certainly him. She could never forget that face. She never would. It was burned into her memory. Never ever to leave. Not even if she removed a part of her brain. His face would be with her forever. He had betrayed her. In the worst possible way. He had stripped her of her innocence and robbed her of the ability to trust. She was a broken human being. She was never going to be a normal human being. She was going to be this hysterical shell of herself for the rest of her life. And it was his fault. Entirely his fault. And he would pay for it with his life.

She slunk from the darkness. Following him like a specter. Her steps were soft and silent. She didn't make so much as rustle the grass. She was like a shadow. Existing but at the same time not at all. He closed the door and she waited a few minutes before she followed him inside. He would be in his study. Probably indulging in a glass of brandy and smoking a cigarette. Wallowing in his money and his successful life when she had never gone anywhere. She hated him for it. The pistol was in her hand before she realized what she was doing. And in the silence of the hall, she screwed her silencer on the nozzle of the gun. She was ready. She would kill him tonight. She would kill him after all this time.

She paused in the hallway and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and felt her heart rate quickening with the fierce excitement that she was feeling. He blood was racing. He thoughts were blazing by her. She was enthralled. Encompassed by everything. This was it. This was when she got her revenge. She simply could not wait for it, and yet, why did she hesitate? Was she hesitating? No, she was just relishing in everything that was happening. She realized that this was her revenge. This was the last time that this moment would come. She would never have this chance again. She might as well enjoy it while she could. A grin peeled back her lips until her mouth was in a fierce snarl. It was time.

She stepped silently out of the hall and moved along until she was at the doorway to his study. She paused there and raised the pistol before stepping into the doorway. Time seemed to freeze in that moment. Seemed to just stop and suspend there. She took in the scene. He was there, smoking, staring into the fire, with a glass of brandy sitting innocently in his hand. He was a pig. How could he live like this, so happy in his lavish house? How could he do this? Was he not guilty for what he had done? Had he done it again to someone else? That thought made her growl, causing her victim's head to snap up.

The moment seemed to last forever. His eyes took her in, the moment of recognition not taking long to set in. He knew who she was. And he seemed a bit scared. She had to kill him now. And fast. Before he had the chance to use his power against him. Her finger squeezed the trigger once, twice, three times. The bullets barely made a sound as they left the barrel of the gun. Three sharp but quiet sounds. Pft.Pft.Pft. The sound of the bullets hitting his face was worse. A wet, meaty sound that gave her the chills and desperately made her want to vomit. In slow motion, almost, she watched the blood splatter and stain the chair he was sitting in and the wall behind him. She shuddered with something akin to happiness. And just like that, he was dead. And yet, she was still afraid. Still scared that somehow he had lived.

She lowered the gun slowly and took one step towards him and then another. She moved slowly, twisting her body sneakily like a cat. But he was dead. Most definitely. There was nothing left of his face. She had only shot him three times, but there was nothing left but something that resembled hamburger meat. A fleshy, messy substance. And yet, in all that mess, she could still see his eyes, open and looking both shocked and scared. Good. He had better of been scared. Just as she had been scared. She circled around him and almost cringed at the sight. The back of his head was entirely gone, his brains splattered on the walls and the floor. Well. He could never use his mind to hurt anyone again. She considered her job done.

So why was she not satisfied? She thought that once this was done, she would instantly feel better about everything. She thought that by killing her attacker, everything would be absolutely fine. She thought that she would not feel so absolutely down trodden and pessimistic. But nothing happened. She still felt lost and unfulfilled. She couldn't understand it. There had to be more to it. She shrugged and walked away from the body, opening the front door and walking out of his house as if nothing had happened. She would drive home and figure out the mystery of this. She would find out why she could not be satisfied. She would figure out why her anger was not quenched. And when she figured that out, she would solve that problem to. In the only way she knew how.

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