Name: Anastasia 'Stas' Carver
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Race/Ethnicity: Half German/ Half African-American
Sexuality: Heterosexual (Bicurious)
Appearance: (Face claim - Jasmine Sanders) Anastasia, having a mixed background, suffers from an unruly mass of golden locks which she often attempts to pacify with a straightener - to no avail. Her eyes are a frosty blue, inherited from her mother and her skin tone is a light brown which can darken in the summer. She stands at a tall 5'7 and weighs 121pounds, blaming her hectic lifestyle for her lack of a healthy eating schedule.
Personality: Anastasia 'Stas', is very boisterous and unreserved. She prefers to be the instigator of a friendship, due to her affectionate nature towards strangers. Despite her friendly demeanor, she is somewhat selfish and doesn't take well to receiving critisicm, prefering to divert her attention elsewhere; even when hearing a harsh truth. Although her confidence is noticeable, it serves as a facade at times, as her tendency to overthink a situation can leave her anxious and withdrawn. Anastasia thrives in chaos, and a conflict is where she is guaranteed to be. Her role could be the mediator of an argument, however she is not afraid to use her sharp words if she believes it to be needed.
History: Her childhood began with nothing all too scandalous or dramatic. Instead, she took residence with her altruistic mother in Germany, living a humble life. Once she turned eight, letters had become arriving in the post for her routinely. They would arrive on each holiday, with blessings, greetings, and a few dollar bills as a token souvenir. Each of these letters was signed by a Mr. Carver who lived in America and already seemed to know Anastasia like the back of his hand. He would send her a silver easter egg for the holidays, without knowing her favourite colour was the same. At Christmas, a set of dainty russian nesting dolls would find themselves in her post-box; something she had been hankering after all year. When she turned the age of ten, her mother had grown sick, something Anastasia had been aware of for quite sometime, but had no idea of the true severity. Three months into her eleventh birthday, her mother passed. Devastating yes, but her mother seemed to have been drifting in and out of consciousness in a haze of sedatives. It had felt like her mother had left her quite some time ago and the death certificate was only a formality. She returned to her home she had once shared with her mother, pondering over her future as an eleven year old girl who had no means to provide for herself. As she turned the corner, a grand black vehicle was parked outside her home, with a man the colour of melting chocolate standing imposingly infront of it. He caught her eye and his mouth upturned into a smile that was familiar - a smile she had seen when she glanced into the mirror herself. She had always wondered why her skin tone was slightly darker than her mothers, and why her mothers hair lay pin straight whereas hers would curl like stubborn vines around her face.
It was a whirlwind from there. Her life began in America, her voice adapted to the mannerisms of those around her and high school flittered by in a haze of sleep-overs, boyfriends and the all too familiar cramming for exams. Her past in Germany seemed distant now, as if it was lived by someone else. The only reminder that stayed with her was her tendency to swear in German when angry; something her father had reprimanded her for several times over. After high school came the steep decline in her relationship with her father. He was dead-set on her continuing an academic future by furthering it at college, however Anastasia had no desire for it. She moved out of her home and contacted a few companions she knew who had connections in the world of fashion and modelling. It was nothing like she expected. At times, she would be rushed with jobs and the sudden influx of money would have hope igniting for her future in the constantly evolving industry. At other times, her phone would remain lifeless, not a single call received as she gathered her remaining notes and struggled to pay the rent for her new apartment.
Thats where she is now. Clinging onto her dream, whilst struggling to stay afloat.