Post by Astrid Volkov on Dec 16, 2017 4:04:45 GMT
Astrid Volkov
Will the faithful be rewarded...
Slave
[attr="class","box_title"] Female | [attr="class","box_title"] Twenty-Seven | [attr="class","box_title"] Asexual (rare Bisexuality) | [attr="class","box_title"] Human |
When we come to the end?
[attr="class","about_1"] Basic Appearance
I can see the soul within
[attr="class","content"]
Astrid Volkov, a peculiar individual to say the least. Standing at an impressive height of approximately six feet flat, she is no stranger to being the elephant in a room. Beyond simply her height though is the pale tone of her flesh, the black shoulder length hair, and her piercing deep blue eyes. Her skin is flawless except where it had been legitimately damaged; chewed skin around the fingernails, a healed over stab wound to the throat, burns on all of the pads of her fingers. Other than that, she is not burdened by any blemishes. Her head is very square, that is to say she has a very broad build, with a defined jawline that still doesn't compromise her femininity. Her nose forms a straight line from the tip to her brow, a little on the small side but quite different from the typical concave curve noses have.
Her body is none the less bulky compared to her face. With defined and surprisingly built muscles for a woman, she has very much the practical build for strength. It is not show-strength, instead it is fat packed on excesses of muscle, somebody who could truly be a threat to many other humans. While not ridiculously so, she certainly is built enough to separate herself from the dainty sort. The woman across her gut also seemed to have the scar of a C-Section. It might also be noted that the texture of her palms and feet have been quite calloused from rough work.
The clothing she wears is a fine line. It does not quite break modesty, but it's enough to accurately portray her form. She wears a black tank-top with a slight V-neck as to not expose too much, and white cargo pants to cover up her legs. Naturally, undergarments are included by need no mention. For feet, she seems to wear a pair of typical street shoes, primarily leather with Velcro tie-ups to make life just one bit easier. On her hands, perhaps in response to the callousing of her hands, she has started wearing a pair of bikers gloves for protection. As for accessories, she has her ears pierced and fitted with fine gold dots, pure gold, probably didn't get a hold of that through legitimate means.
Seal of Sitri made clear at the bottom of the contract for Astrid's soul. This contract can be found on her person at all times, taped to her back underneath her shirt.
Astrid Volkov, a peculiar individual to say the least. Standing at an impressive height of approximately six feet flat, she is no stranger to being the elephant in a room. Beyond simply her height though is the pale tone of her flesh, the black shoulder length hair, and her piercing deep blue eyes. Her skin is flawless except where it had been legitimately damaged; chewed skin around the fingernails, a healed over stab wound to the throat, burns on all of the pads of her fingers. Other than that, she is not burdened by any blemishes. Her head is very square, that is to say she has a very broad build, with a defined jawline that still doesn't compromise her femininity. Her nose forms a straight line from the tip to her brow, a little on the small side but quite different from the typical concave curve noses have.
Her body is none the less bulky compared to her face. With defined and surprisingly built muscles for a woman, she has very much the practical build for strength. It is not show-strength, instead it is fat packed on excesses of muscle, somebody who could truly be a threat to many other humans. While not ridiculously so, she certainly is built enough to separate herself from the dainty sort. The woman across her gut also seemed to have the scar of a C-Section. It might also be noted that the texture of her palms and feet have been quite calloused from rough work.
The clothing she wears is a fine line. It does not quite break modesty, but it's enough to accurately portray her form. She wears a black tank-top with a slight V-neck as to not expose too much, and white cargo pants to cover up her legs. Naturally, undergarments are included by need no mention. For feet, she seems to wear a pair of typical street shoes, primarily leather with Velcro tie-ups to make life just one bit easier. On her hands, perhaps in response to the callousing of her hands, she has started wearing a pair of bikers gloves for protection. As for accessories, she has her ears pierced and fitted with fine gold dots, pure gold, probably didn't get a hold of that through legitimate means.
Seal of Sitri made clear at the bottom of the contract for Astrid's soul. This contract can be found on her person at all times, taped to her back underneath her shirt.
[attr="class","about_1"] Personality
Will I miss the final warning...
[attr="class","content"]
The personality of Astrid is a fragile thing. While what changed this did not occur after going to the house, she was once a very ordinary individual. With very acute signs of mental illness, occasional visits to a therapist, small situations while she grew up ultimately nothing came of it.
She was a successful business woman, defining the status quo for the age to which she worked in. The icon of success and the embodiment of what it means to live an ordinary life as a Human. At the age of twenty five she was a healthy woman with nothing odd save her height. She had a husband, and two children, both incredibly young. This is to say that she was within the confines of mentally normal. She was apparently kind, outgoing and caring. Seemingly honest (but ultimately a deceiver), doing what she needed to do in order to be successful. Without of course, shaming herself.
However a traumatic moment tore down that kind facade, the one she'd built early in her childhood and maintained to this day. She single attachment she had to both herself and her family would be torn in this scenario. At this point, and this is basically the present Astrid that can be observed, she is not right of mind. While not babbling insane, that kind, outgoing and caring facade has eroded into what she really had been thinking all around. Cold to the bone, calculating mentality and a complete lack of morality, filled to the brim with pride. The signs of an absolute sociopath in the works.
Likes: Themselves, but otherwise nothing at this moment
Dislikes: Failure, not reaching her own standards. Granted, the definition of Failure is one unique to her in that it's basically death. Hence why she'll not be livid in her state within the House.
The personality of Astrid is a fragile thing. While what changed this did not occur after going to the house, she was once a very ordinary individual. With very acute signs of mental illness, occasional visits to a therapist, small situations while she grew up ultimately nothing came of it.
She was a successful business woman, defining the status quo for the age to which she worked in. The icon of success and the embodiment of what it means to live an ordinary life as a Human. At the age of twenty five she was a healthy woman with nothing odd save her height. She had a husband, and two children, both incredibly young. This is to say that she was within the confines of mentally normal. She was apparently kind, outgoing and caring. Seemingly honest (but ultimately a deceiver), doing what she needed to do in order to be successful. Without of course, shaming herself.
However a traumatic moment tore down that kind facade, the one she'd built early in her childhood and maintained to this day. She single attachment she had to both herself and her family would be torn in this scenario. At this point, and this is basically the present Astrid that can be observed, she is not right of mind. While not babbling insane, that kind, outgoing and caring facade has eroded into what she really had been thinking all around. Cold to the bone, calculating mentality and a complete lack of morality, filled to the brim with pride. The signs of an absolute sociopath in the works.
Likes: Themselves, but otherwise nothing at this moment
Dislikes: Failure, not reaching her own standards. Granted, the definition of Failure is one unique to her in that it's basically death. Hence why she'll not be livid in her state within the House.
[attr="class","about_1"] History
From the lie that I have lived?
[attr="class","content"]
Before -
Volkov. A name that was like wildfire in the office. Three years back she was the stunning new recruit that hit the cubicles like a paperwork goddess. She seemed attentive, caring, empathetic and honest, and most of all incredibly motivated. She consistently met deadlines even if there were severe setbacks, stayed late at work without asking for late pay, innovated within the company that she worked for.
That company specifically was a Brokerage Firm known as the Gavin Seacrest Corporation. Named smugly after the founder, it was fundamentally her job to be on a phone and working with paper for days on end. What is considered a very lucrative business with some questionable conditions and a certain amount of skepticism over the authenticity of the whole model. Regardless, she was a huge asset for the company. Within a week her work ethic was recognized, she constantly netted in some of the best profits and was basically a new feature on the wall as Employee of the Month.
Not everyone liked that.
The years dragged onwards since her introduction to the company. Off of the wealth she had accrued she comfortably found a loving husband and had children, all with the preface of appearing normal and fitting into the greater scheme of adulthood. While none of her friends or family new the truth of it, the fact still stood that at first she had no feelings towards her own family she'd started. Granted, that did change. Her kids, through some twisted machination of her mind were her kin, and so she had a bond with them that was much alike the sociopaths wish to preserve oneself.
Twenty five, ripe in January just short of her first sons second birthday was when the tragedy hit. Since, all Demonic Contract must be the result of something particularly dire. Late at night, alternatively early in the morning is when their home was hit. Fast asleep, the suspects silently got into their home. Having been scouting the location, they circumvented the silent alarm before it had a chance to alert the authorities.
During her sleep, her two children unfortunately passed. The people that entered this house clearly did not come with the intent to get some money- at least in the form of robbery, but they were here to undermine either her or her husband in some personal vendetta. Minutes later their door creaked open, and that's when she woke up. Spotting the darkened figure near the doorway, she immediately alerted her husband and tried to jump to action. Yet, they were upon them so quickly. She watched as her husband was killed before he had a chance to try and defend the both of them, and then they were onto her. After a few moments of panicked self-preservation and evading strikes, she was eventually stabbed in the throat and left to bleed out. Nobody survived such a stab.
Yet, nobody referred to no human, and without non-human intervention. As blood trickled across the floor, her mindset would make a presence known shortly. She could not speak, only gargle. However in her mind it was a choir. Bells and chimes rang, her mind did not race yet it did not die. She crawled across the ground, futile and nobody could survive such a thing, but she was trying to push forward with a dreadful amount of determination. Thus, she did not need to speak. The entity in that room with her could see her thoughts, hence it had appeared in the first place. Lured by the complete mental peculiarity that was Astrid, it didn't want to see the story end quite yet. So, a sheet formed itself in her vision in the possible final moments of her life.
It stated what she thought. The contract, lasting two years would grant her the ability to recover from any injury and through moments of fixated fortune evade captivity and authority.
She signed, hand grasping the offered pen and scrawling her name. It vanished in a whisk, and she was left on the ground. She passed out from bloodloss before the contract came into effect, but in the moments after it was authenticated by the Fallen Angel Sitri, although had it not been Sitri, there were a couple of others willing to express their interest.
The morning after she awoke to a bloodied floor. She had to pry herself off of the floor, cloths ripping and dried blood cracking as she literally had to separate herself from the floor, dried blood sticking the two entities together. Eventually she did, tossing the remainder of the clothing and investigating the house. She was no longer what she'd made apparent all of these years. She was a beast, and she was quick to accept her situation and adapt, the only proof she needed being the massive scar across her neck.
Discovering her husbands body, she walked down the hall. He didn't really traumatize her in his passing, she didn't really care to be frank. She did care about her kids. Walking into their room, it was a sight that will not be described, but it finalized her decision. She would kill those people. She had two years, until she was twenty seven. These people would be certain of her death, she she would need to remain under the radar.
For the first year it was improving oneself. Abandoning her home and anonymously tipping off authority, and then living in a homeless shelter while constantly keeping her identity hidden with the simple things. Change in hair color and style, the usage of sunglasses and a hat, sometimes even a scarf in the cold seasons. As she got stronger and stronger from exercise, intense mind you, her build became unrecognizable from who she once was.
Then it was year two. The careful observation of old colleagues. It did not actually take that long to start making headway. A particular group had risen to the top performing in her old company. He, that one after all, was the runner-up to her success. The one she took the spotlight from. Anybody else, and they'd need some sort of proof, some sort of clarification or further investigation, but she acted immediately. No doubt would the truth come out when they were dying. Taking a table leg from the homeless shelter, she found the address of the workers home and stood outside of his door stoically. His name was Jared Garth, always was a scumbag in the office. Different circumstances and she probably could've posed as a prostitute to get closer to him. That wasn't necessary, though. As he approached her with confusion on his face, her hands remained holding the leg of the table behind her back. The door was partly open. She'd already dealt with his family, so tragedy creates tragedy. She spared him no words while ramming the broken table leg through his gut, and driving his car over him several times.
Naturally, the police through pure fortune conjured through the contract could not track down the killer. There were no traceable fingerprints, and in the moments that they would've got a trace, the result changed. To Astrid, the pads her fingertips burnt to reflect this change.
The killing spree would continue for another month, and finally she would have some semblance of peace. While it was a vicious cycle, it was one that was needed to clear the conscience of a sociopath. So, she willingly threw herself into the arms of the Wailing House, joining the flocks of tormented souls that reside there. She had no status, simply a measly slave. How that would change her is still to come.
After -
I will be beginning her story legitimately the moments that she arrives at the Wailing House.
Before -
Volkov. A name that was like wildfire in the office. Three years back she was the stunning new recruit that hit the cubicles like a paperwork goddess. She seemed attentive, caring, empathetic and honest, and most of all incredibly motivated. She consistently met deadlines even if there were severe setbacks, stayed late at work without asking for late pay, innovated within the company that she worked for.
That company specifically was a Brokerage Firm known as the Gavin Seacrest Corporation. Named smugly after the founder, it was fundamentally her job to be on a phone and working with paper for days on end. What is considered a very lucrative business with some questionable conditions and a certain amount of skepticism over the authenticity of the whole model. Regardless, she was a huge asset for the company. Within a week her work ethic was recognized, she constantly netted in some of the best profits and was basically a new feature on the wall as Employee of the Month.
Not everyone liked that.
The years dragged onwards since her introduction to the company. Off of the wealth she had accrued she comfortably found a loving husband and had children, all with the preface of appearing normal and fitting into the greater scheme of adulthood. While none of her friends or family new the truth of it, the fact still stood that at first she had no feelings towards her own family she'd started. Granted, that did change. Her kids, through some twisted machination of her mind were her kin, and so she had a bond with them that was much alike the sociopaths wish to preserve oneself.
Twenty five, ripe in January just short of her first sons second birthday was when the tragedy hit. Since, all Demonic Contract must be the result of something particularly dire. Late at night, alternatively early in the morning is when their home was hit. Fast asleep, the suspects silently got into their home. Having been scouting the location, they circumvented the silent alarm before it had a chance to alert the authorities.
During her sleep, her two children unfortunately passed. The people that entered this house clearly did not come with the intent to get some money- at least in the form of robbery, but they were here to undermine either her or her husband in some personal vendetta. Minutes later their door creaked open, and that's when she woke up. Spotting the darkened figure near the doorway, she immediately alerted her husband and tried to jump to action. Yet, they were upon them so quickly. She watched as her husband was killed before he had a chance to try and defend the both of them, and then they were onto her. After a few moments of panicked self-preservation and evading strikes, she was eventually stabbed in the throat and left to bleed out. Nobody survived such a stab.
Yet, nobody referred to no human, and without non-human intervention. As blood trickled across the floor, her mindset would make a presence known shortly. She could not speak, only gargle. However in her mind it was a choir. Bells and chimes rang, her mind did not race yet it did not die. She crawled across the ground, futile and nobody could survive such a thing, but she was trying to push forward with a dreadful amount of determination. Thus, she did not need to speak. The entity in that room with her could see her thoughts, hence it had appeared in the first place. Lured by the complete mental peculiarity that was Astrid, it didn't want to see the story end quite yet. So, a sheet formed itself in her vision in the possible final moments of her life.
It stated what she thought. The contract, lasting two years would grant her the ability to recover from any injury and through moments of fixated fortune evade captivity and authority.
She signed, hand grasping the offered pen and scrawling her name. It vanished in a whisk, and she was left on the ground. She passed out from bloodloss before the contract came into effect, but in the moments after it was authenticated by the Fallen Angel Sitri, although had it not been Sitri, there were a couple of others willing to express their interest.
The morning after she awoke to a bloodied floor. She had to pry herself off of the floor, cloths ripping and dried blood cracking as she literally had to separate herself from the floor, dried blood sticking the two entities together. Eventually she did, tossing the remainder of the clothing and investigating the house. She was no longer what she'd made apparent all of these years. She was a beast, and she was quick to accept her situation and adapt, the only proof she needed being the massive scar across her neck.
Discovering her husbands body, she walked down the hall. He didn't really traumatize her in his passing, she didn't really care to be frank. She did care about her kids. Walking into their room, it was a sight that will not be described, but it finalized her decision. She would kill those people. She had two years, until she was twenty seven. These people would be certain of her death, she she would need to remain under the radar.
For the first year it was improving oneself. Abandoning her home and anonymously tipping off authority, and then living in a homeless shelter while constantly keeping her identity hidden with the simple things. Change in hair color and style, the usage of sunglasses and a hat, sometimes even a scarf in the cold seasons. As she got stronger and stronger from exercise, intense mind you, her build became unrecognizable from who she once was.
Then it was year two. The careful observation of old colleagues. It did not actually take that long to start making headway. A particular group had risen to the top performing in her old company. He, that one after all, was the runner-up to her success. The one she took the spotlight from. Anybody else, and they'd need some sort of proof, some sort of clarification or further investigation, but she acted immediately. No doubt would the truth come out when they were dying. Taking a table leg from the homeless shelter, she found the address of the workers home and stood outside of his door stoically. His name was Jared Garth, always was a scumbag in the office. Different circumstances and she probably could've posed as a prostitute to get closer to him. That wasn't necessary, though. As he approached her with confusion on his face, her hands remained holding the leg of the table behind her back. The door was partly open. She'd already dealt with his family, so tragedy creates tragedy. She spared him no words while ramming the broken table leg through his gut, and driving his car over him several times.
Naturally, the police through pure fortune conjured through the contract could not track down the killer. There were no traceable fingerprints, and in the moments that they would've got a trace, the result changed. To Astrid, the pads her fingertips burnt to reflect this change.
The killing spree would continue for another month, and finally she would have some semblance of peace. While it was a vicious cycle, it was one that was needed to clear the conscience of a sociopath. So, she willingly threw herself into the arms of the Wailing House, joining the flocks of tormented souls that reside there. She had no status, simply a measly slave. How that would change her is still to come.
After -
I will be beginning her story legitimately the moments that she arrives at the Wailing House.
[attr="class","about_1"] Other Information
I am not worthy of this
[attr="class","ooc_box"] Gonedee |
[attr="class","ooc_box"] Matsunaka Hiro; OC // Astrid Volkov |
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