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Personality:
Anastasia's personality is an elusive thing to chronicle. During her time as an assassin, putting on a pretty face as a facade was a common occurrence. Now what the world sees is a girl who is cheerful as she is scary. While most would expect her to be a scatterbrain or a gung-ho Russian Little Red Riding Hood with a few grenades in Granny's basket, they couldn't be any more wrong. Though she may have a lax demeanor, her actions are calculated and scrupulous, paying the highest attention to the ever-changing scenery. The girl can make you laugh until you're in tears, or beat the daylights out of you for the same result. Get close to her, and you'll find an individual who can switch her character on the time, kind of like a switch. Bite at her, and she'll bite back. Be affable with her, and she'll be a loyal friend.

Her grandfather always told her to never get used to killing. A ceased life is something that should be seen off with a haughty laugh. That's somebody's kid right there. Somebody's legacy, forever severed. People should be respectful to the deceased.

She also has a soft spot for fluffy things. Kitsunes beware.

Abilities:

• Metal Manipulation - To put it simply, the control over metallic objects and can alter their kinetic and potential energy. In laymen's terms, she can fling shit around and stop it on a dime. Now this sounds pretty broad so let's clarify on what it actually entails. Her ability itself only has a total range of 25 meters, and the larger the entity the quicker she tires out. Even though she's red a fair amount of manga (a prime and reliable source of reference) to become versed with Japan's culture, she is quite aware that her powers are finite. A good rest suffices to recharge her stamina, but her ability is not something she uses loosely or recklessly.
  
  It's safe to say that her capabilities clock out at weight equivalent to a steel beam. To clarify, metallic alloys and malleable metals provide optimal resonance, meanwhile on the total opposite end of the spectrum are Earth metals, which she downright refuses to deal with. Also, metal that's already been integrated into the foundations of infrastructure are practically impossible to control. So don't worry, Anastasia won't be toppling skyscrapers and glorious Capitalism anytime soon. Maybe the latter. But since the ability can be tiring, she tends to only use in between a bear and a hard place, or only for small objects she can use as projectiles at a moment's notice.
  
  Propelling an object isn't something she can instantly, unless if she intends for its speed to be somewhat slow. To send something flying or whizzing, she needs to charge and build up potential energy, then launch it.
  
  Another useful perk of the ability is that she can control her guns. This isn't implying that she can direct their fire while they're afloat. A good assassin never blind fires. Instead, she can just grab on and "fly" with it.

Skills:

• Marksmanship: - Though her dominion over metallic objects may provide assistance to her in hitting whatever's on the other end of the barrel, hours of training and critiques, coupled with her innate accuracy has made her far exceed the esteemed title of crackshot.
• Guise - Expressions and personalities are something Anastasia uses interchangeably. Though she may not have any mature or generally considered alluring qualities, putting on a bright facade can instantly ease somebody right where she wants 'em.
• Quick Thinking - Adaptability is one of Anastasia's strong suits. Evolving or evolution are terms used for the development of a species over time by the expression of traits that provide leverage in certain environments. But time is not a commodity Anastasia has to leisure to relish. When assignments go haywire, it was her ability to swiftly process changes that got her out alone.
• Fisticuffs - Don't get in a fist fight with her. Or a bar fight. Russian bias too stronk.

Equipment:

• VKS - A straight-pull bolt-action sniper rifle developed to replace the inadequate VSS, fires a 12.7x55mm subsonic round. She has the tendency to casually walk around with it slung over her shoulder. Tends to scare people shitless.
• PSM(Pistolet Samozaryadny Malogabaritny) - Communism's little friend. Compact, concealable, and chambered in 5.45x18mm, Anastasia has used this pistol on many occasions when curt acting and small time frames were involved.
• Brass Knuckles - Fisticuffs time.

Backstory:
Our story begins a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far awa- Wait a sec, isn't that the intro to some movie? Star, Star something... Oh right! Star Trek! Erm... let's see if this wo-

NAAAAAAAAAANTS INGONYAMA BAGITHI BABA Sithi uhm ingony- Дерьмо! We're going to get copyrighted! Okay, okay, just tell the story. I have to go clean my sniper rifle. Now where did I put it...? Pretty sure I hid it under the dog...

Surely most, if not all of you have heard of fable known as Little Red Riding Hood? A tale that dates back all the way to the 17th century which revolves around a young girl, dubbed for her cerise apparel and petite stature. It’s a story told with an endearing and mollifying voice by the bedside, intended to solidify the antitheses of the safety of the village and the dangers of the forest. Chances are even you were graced by the events of this aged story. Much like wine, a tale ferments and gains flavor overtime. What you remember from your younger days was most likely the sanitized version, the one safe for youthful sheltered minds. You surely recall Red’s iconic series of innocent and painfully naive queries, yeah? ”Oh grandma, what a deep voice you have! Goodness, big eyes you have! Oh how bloody blind I am because I can’t tell that this is obviously a damn wolf” And all the while granny is restrained in the closet and a nearby hunter saves Red when the wolf made its advance on her. Thus another happy ending bearing a valuable life lesson that we’ll surely use as a crutch later on.

But as already stated, that was the lighter version. Another depicts Granny and Red consumed by the wolf, who then takes a snooze shortly thereafter. This time around, the hunter cuts open the wolf’s stomach and after he frees the two unharmed victims fills it with stones. When the wolf awakened, he made an attempt to flee but soon collapsed and died. Sure that just made you go “holy shit” and laid a steamy one right on your childhood. Let’s not even talk about the 17th century French iteration. Now that’s a pretty messed up story. Little Red even unknowingly cannibalizes her own grandmother!

But let’s just say for argument’s sake it was little girl in a red hood instead of a burly man with a hatchet. And instead of a wolf, it was a corrupt politician more right-winged than Hitler. And rather than a serrated edge, a 12.7x55mm SC-130VPS subsonic round traveling at three-hundred meters a second, permeating the parietal bone, lobe, and left femur of a close passenger.

The story of Little Red Riding Hood was just one of the many Anastasia’s grandfather gifted her to fill the void of frozen Russian nights. He bequeathed unto the girl many fables by the mollifying hearth, a fair amount revolved around himself and his service in the war. There was the time in the midst of the East Prussian Offensive he disabled a Panzer IV(H) with a RPG-6 and executed the tank’s Untersturmführer with his own luger. Or the series of events that could plausibly be called happenstances that lead to his position in the Solntsevskaya Bravta, which he operates in with his normal demeanor, unlike others who live two-faced lives. Personal anecdotes and fairy tales alike were loved by young Anastasia. Even at her age she knew fully well her grandfather wasn’t a lawful man. But he was a dedicated man, one who would do anything for his family.

It was at an ordinary dinner that Anastasia’s lurking powers surfaced. Her grandfather, as lovable and conscientious a man he was, he couldn’t tell jokes for the life of him. So when he attempted to crack an abhorred ”In Soviet Russia…” pun, he found a steak knife flying straight for his nose. He couldn’t even breathe in the time that it took the knife to traverse the distance. The man was surprised not by the speed of the silverware, but by how abruptly it stopped and nonchalantly floated in open air. Needles to say he and every soul at that table was left in awe, all the while innocent Anastasia continued to indulge herself in veggies.

Anastasia’s parents were horrified, and that’s putting it lightly. But as a man who has truly seen some shit, her grandfather saw potential. A seed that needed to be cultivated and cared for properly. Since her parents enjoyed the bliss of normalcy almost as if it was a drug, they happily shoved custody over to her grandfather. She had already spent so much time over at the senior's house that the change was almost seamless.

If people really, really, really don't like other people, then even one's life force could by quantified by a price tag. The Solntsevskaya Bravta, being the largest and most influential Russian crime syndicate, spend a majority of its time on the dark side of the spectrum. Racketeering, trafficking (both human and drug), prostitution, gun running, laundering, organ trade of the illegal variety, you name it and they've at the least dabbled in it. The brotherhood has of course been involved in murders, or rather, assassinations. Anything to retain their bearing with oligarch. Sometimes there are hurdles you must overcome. Rather than waste the effort and resources to leap over it, why not pay somebody else to knock it down entirely? And that's where little Anastasia comes in.

It would be feasible to say that she inherited both her grandfather's consummate perception and his vibrant wit. With the man as her personal trainer, he mentored the girl with a kind yet blunt tone. Even though this was a grandfather training her family member to be a living, breathing gun, last thing he wanted was for the girl to slip up when it truly mattered. Whenever she fell short of expectations, she was met with a silent nod of acceptance and told to try again. And if she fell short again, she would try again. It's not only practice that makes perfect. It's also having an experienced hand to guide you the right you that helps. Though her missions were not many at first, after a while she knew that each one entailed another life she would have to extinguish. She devoutly served the brotherhood and always made sure to get the job done, because she knew that no matter how much her grandfather loved her, one hiccup and the Brutva would cut off all ties and any affiliation.

It was shortly after her grandfather's unexpected passing that she did just that. She messed up. The private military force escorting a certain politician didn't find her, but that didn't mean the Brutva wouldn't tie up loose ends. As long as she was alive, she was a liability.

So she ran.

Her grandfather made sure the girl knew what she should do if things went south, and now that they did, she fled with her lessons and a reliable amount of cash. She enlarged the gap between the Brutva and herself so much that she wound up in the Far East. More specifically, Japan. Yep, good old Nihon! Making the trip was a piece of cake for Anastasia, save for the few encounters and skirmishes she had along the way.

It was at a desolate camping ground that it happened. The warm Japanese nights starkly contrasted with those she knew like the rifling of her VSK. Sleeping outside was a cinch for her. Her would have slept until sunrise and continued on to a nearby city, had her acute senses not picked up a couple presences mid-slumber. From the perch of a tree branch she peered down upon two women, nondescript and with no distinguishable characters. Until they broke out a handful of convenience store rice balls.

Anastasia, for the first time in over a decade, lost faith in the perception of her eyes. The back of their skulls split and contorted to form an arrangement of lips, teeth, and a mouth that unhinged with a petrifying crack. Futakuchi-onna. Youkai. Though they referred to by a different name in Russia, Anastasia had some pocket knowledge on beings that roamed the Earth alongside humans. Silent and unnoticed, the girl listened in attentively as two rear mouths gouged on food chock full with preservatives. It was obvious that they were on a journey due to the sizable bags. In her eavesdrop she picked up the location "Imaginary District" a few times. The two yokai had enough of living under a face. Anastasia could respect that, not wanting to live a two-faced life anymore. The place sounded pretty safe, a haven almost from how they described it. Finally the little Russian descended from her perch and held them at gunpoi- asked them nicely to go into more depth, and more importantly, if she could tag along. Needless to say the two Youkai complied after seeing a floating sidearm.

She never anticipated the wonders that awaited her.

Obviously Anastasia isn't in the killing business anymore. The innovative girl has found other ways to support herself. At the moment, she is a student of a local high school, but is surrounded in mystery.

Themesongs: