Lucy Charlotte Parker || Unaffiliated || Little Dove

TAKEN | OPEN |

Face-claim: Emily Browning Age: 23 Occupation: Barista at Heaven&Hell Nationality/Ethnicity: British+Russian Citizenship // Half English/Half French

PERSONALITY

Enneagram: 5w6 The Investigator+Peacemaker  Alignment: Chaotic Good MBTI: INFP The Mediator

+ Warm, Non-judgemental, Kind

- Reserved, Shy, Cautious

Lucy is a reserved quiet girl. Once she is comfortable with another she peaks out of her rabbit hole. She’s kind-hearted and approachable; to those she knows well at least.This girl may be difficult to befriend due to her cautious and reserved nature and sometimes her rather negative outlook upon herself and her own capabilities but she cares deeply about others. She loves venturing above ground, though risky so she tends to stay close to her home in The Tunnels. She is also a book-worm and English Literature fanatic. You would never really find her near the bars but she will almost seem as though she lives in coffee shops and libraries.

BIOGRAPHY

Born in England, Lucy was raised into a half-british, half-french family - at the time she never knew the hardship of war. For nine years, she lived in a middle class society oblivious to the cruelty of the world. However, when the war broke out everything changed. She remembered her childhood clearly; the gasmask she was forced to wear as she was evicted from her home, away from her mother into the countryside to live a more safer life. Her father had already signed up to the war before she could say goodbye. She remembered the home-schooling she received by an upper class woman that had been generous enough to take her into her home and give a roof over her head and food on the table while the war raged outside.

When Lucy grew from a child into a young adolescent, she had already learnt two languages fluently, English and German and was learning a third. She had already decided, if the war still continued when she was fifteen, a year before her legal age, she would join the war effort by becoming a member of British Intelligence in the support of her father and all the other men dying to protect the country. However, there had been news that Russia had been betrayed by Germany, and had switched sides from the Axis to join the Allies, and her father was joining Russia to support the country.

At fourteen, she had ran away from her home in the countryside, returning to her home to say goodbye to her mother, to find that she was already packing her bags - she wanted to enter Russia to be closer to his husband, her father. So they fled. As soon as they had arrived, Lucy was already faking her age, and signing up at fifteen to become a translator for Russian Intelligence in the war. One of the youngest there was. Her education never stopped, and with her well educated childhood and now knowing basic French and Russian she became a valuable member of intelligence, although not as skillful or as fluent as older women, she was the most successful at such a young age. However, a year after deciphering the war had come to an end. Shortly after, her father had arrived home safe. They were a family again. Lucy stayed in the NKVD for another year, but left to live a normal life with her parents at seventeen, so she could have the time with them that she had missed due to the outbreak of the war.

She never thought that she would deal with translating and deciphering, but then came Stalin’s death, and the unexpected chaos that followed. They came charging,the secret police, through the streets in the middle of the night. Armed with guns, they blazed through homes. Even now she could still hear the screams from their neighbours as their homes were destroyed, set a blaze, and the sounds of gunfire. Her mother had told her to hide, and with reluctance she did, under the floorboards where their shelter still remained. However, when she heard her father being taken away and her mother’s cries for her husband Lucy fought every urge to come out and run to them. Peering through the gaps in the floorboards, footsteps blocked her vision, and then out of the corner of her eyesight she saw further movement. The sounds of her mother being thrown to the ground was enough for her.

After a while of what sounded like her mother’s struggles against another man, there was a loud gunshot that pierced her ears. Before long, blood seeped through the cracks toward her, the warm liquid dripping onto her face. After the noise of her mother’s cries had become silent, and there was the slow movement of a lifeless body being dragged away, with the footsteps of the police fading she quickly slipped out of her hiding place, and when she stepped onto her home the first thing she saw was blood. It caked the walls, and the floorboards she had just came from, it was her mother’s blood still warm on her face. Then - she saw outside the door. People lined up on their knees. One of them was her father, still alive. Lucy knew she had to run but she couldn’t leave her father. Sneaking up quietly to the doorway all she could do was watch. She was unable to do anything, unable to save him. When the gun was pressed against the back of her father’s skull she instinctively rushed out into the crowd, but was pushed back by red army soldiers. She fell, and by the time she stumbled to her feet there was another gunshot - multiple all at once, her ears were ringing for several minutes. She knelt there, watching the blood pour down the cracks between the cobblestones, her father’s lifeless bloodshot eyes seemed to look straight at her.

Anton Mishka Morozov || Civilian || The Abandoned

TAKEN |OPEN |

Face-claim: Daniel Sharman Age: 30 Occupation: Heaven&Hell barista & Brasserie Bar bartender Nationality/Ethnicity: Russian

PERSONALITY

Enneagram: The Loyalist Alignment: Lawful Neutral MBTI: ENTP-T Debater

+ Hardworking, Reliable, Resilient

-  Blunt, lonely, moody

BIOGRAPHY

Early tragedy isn't something that should happen to anyone. No one should have to grapple the concept of death when they're a child. No one should have to learn just how cruel the world can be with heartbreak, grief and everything else that is basically complete and utter bullshit. The only thing is that life doesn't wait up. Life doesn't take a person by the hand and gently guide them through everything. No, the way Anton saw it was the opposite. Life didn't give a shit if you had your parents killed in an 'accident' when you were barely five, and the only other living relative you had resided on the opposite side of Russia. Life didn’t care about the struggle it took to get you to your aunt’s place while you were crying for your parents the entire trip over. It didn’t show you any signs that a five year old could comprehend that things were going to be okay. Life was the one that dealt the punches and people, like him, couldn't do anything other than to just take it.

After Anton moved in with his aunt he wasn’t too sure what happened for the next year or so. He was capable of developing and retaining memories, but it was because of the sheer grief he felt due to his parent’s death had almost been too much to handle. It was a blur to him, and even though his aunt had always told him the blunt truth, his young mind had come up with other reasons. There had been no attempted to lie to him in order to ease the news of how his parents had died horrifically in a car accident, but Anton had chosen to believe that his parents had left him instead. He didn’t remember much about his father or mother, but he sure did develop a fear of abandonment because of them. It was irrational, something he had come to terms with when he was old enough to fully understand what death was, but what else was he to think when he was young? That one fear had been planted within him since then and it was the sole cause of how needy he grew to be. Once Anton realized that his parents were really gone he somehow found it in himself, and with the help of his aunt of course, to try and move on. His aunt, Susan as she always told him to call her, was a hardass but a loving and caring one. She just raised Anton in a different way than most parents did, but it helped him in the long run.

Anton was taught how to be kind, but he was also taught when to take that kindness away when it was needed. He was exposed to alcohol and cigarettes when he was a preteen, but he also learned how to clean up after himself when he went a night with too much to drink. A lot of things that parents usually coddled their child for didn’t apply to him. She taught him how to be effective as a beta since she was one as well. Susan made sure that she exposed Anton to everything she could so he stand on his own two feet just in case anything happened to her. God forbid she would have a terrible fate like Anton’s parents before he was 18. Well, everything besides the war of course. There had been some lucky match up where Anton wasn't drafted to participate, but he counted that as a blessing instead of griping about it. He wasn't a violent person by nature and he found a lot more comfort in the work he did to keep the community running.

Anton matured faster than most of his peers, but he was still young and acted like it. Every time Susan detected a swell in his ego she made sure to beat it down before it could get to his head. In his later years Anton would be eternally grateful for that, but it had been something very worthy to whine and complain about when it was happening. He loved his aunt to death though, and there was nothing that could ever change that. They worked together to make a modest living and when the war blew over they both didn't want to dip their toes in with the forming syndicates.

They continued with their relationship that consisted of an odd mixture between bickering and love, but when life decided to burst his bubble again he had nearly been completely shattered from it. Anton had been at work he got word from the police. Susan had been at the gas station to pay for her gas when someone decided to try and rob the place. Something had seemed to have triggered something within the thief because he then shot her before he fled the scene. Anton was told that she was in critical condition and he didn’t hesitate to drop everything so he could get to the hospital. His aunt lasted another day before she flatlined, and Anton once again couldn’t remember what happened for months afterwards. He was still living, very much so, but his mind was elsewhere. Grief shrouded his thoughts and actions but time seemed to lessen the intensity of it as the years went on.