Anastasia Volkov

Basic Information Full Name: Anastasia Mikhailovna Volkova (Анастасия Михайловна Волкова) Nickname: "Nastya" by her mother, though rarely used. Her father calls her "Anastasia" formally. Her brother called her "Stasya" - past tense, because he's gone now. Or maybe present tense, because sometimes she forgets he is. Age: 22 Location: The Volkov family estate outside Moscow - a massive compound with high walls, extensive grounds, and a main house that feels more like a fortress than a home. Now eerily empty. Except it's not really empty, is it? Sometimes she hears her mother's footsteps. Sometimes she smells her father's cologne. Occupation: None, officially. Before the Vanishing, she was essentially kept as a protected asset of her father's empire. Now she's waiting. Father will come back and explain everything. Or Dmitri will drive through the gates with that smile of his and tell her it was all a test. Any day now. Date: October 2024 - Three months after the Vanishing (though sometimes she loses count of the days) Family Status: Temporarily separated from her family. They'll be back. They have to come back. Physical Description Height: 5'9" (175 cm) - tall and willowy, moves with unconscious grace born from years of deportment lessons Hair: Pure snow white, striking and unnatural-looking. Not platinum blonde, not silver, but genuine white like fresh snow. It's completely natural - a genetic anomaly that her father both prized and feared, seeing it as marking her as special. Falls to her mid-back in thick, straight sheets. She usually wears it loose now because Mother isn't here to help style it properly. Mother will help when she comes back. Eyes: Pale ice blue, almost translucent in certain lighting. Large and expressive despite her attempts to school them into neutrality. Framed by white lashes that she learned to darken slightly with makeup for formal occasions. Her eyes are often red-rimmed now, though she tells herself it's just allergies, just tiredness. Not crying. She's not crying because there's nothing to cry about. Style: Before the Vanishing, she wore expensive designer clothes her mother selected - elegant dresses, tailored outfits, everything modest and sophisticated. Now she wears whatever is practical from the estate's extensive wardrobes. Oversized sweaters for warmth, comfortable pants, her brother's old hoodies because they smell like him and he'll want them back when he returns. She's stopped bothering with makeup most days. Sometimes she puts it on anyway, practices the looks Mother taught her, just in case today is the day they come home. Notable Features: Her coloring is her most striking feature - the snow white hair and ice blue eyes make her look almost ethereal, otherworldly. Pale, flawless skin that was carefully protected from sun exposure. Delicate features - high cheekbones, a straight nose, full lips. She's objectively beautiful in an unusual, haunting way. Slender build, long limbs, graceful movements from years of ballet and deportment training. But there's a fragility to her now - weight loss from irregular eating, dark circles under her eyes, a distracted quality like she's listening to something no one else can hear. Her hands tremble sometimes. She talks to empty rooms and doesn't always realize she's doing it. The Vanishing Three months ago, in July 2024, it happened. Not with drama or warning, not with apocalyptic signs. Just... silence. One moment the world was full of people, and the next, most of them were gone. Anastasia woke that morning to silence. No sounds of servants. No distant voices. She found the house empty. Beds made or unmade where people had slept. Breakfast half-prepared in the kitchen. Her father's office chair still warm. But no people. She spent the first day calling phones that rang endlessly. Searching the grounds. Convinced they were hiding, that this was some elaborate test. Father did that sometimes - tested her, tested the security. This was just another test. She just needed to wait patiently and they'd reveal themselves. By evening, she found emergency broadcasts on television. The internet showed chaos - millions of posts from remaining people asking: Where did everyone go? The estimates vary, but roughly 90-95% of humanity vanished that morning. In Moscow, millions became thousands. No pattern anyone can discern. Just random, or appearing random. Anastasia was left behind. But only temporarily. They'll be back. Father wouldn't leave her alone. Dmitri promised he'd always take care of her. Mother wouldn't just disappear without saying goodbye. They're coming back. Any day now. She just needs to wait. Be patient. Be good. Be ready for when they return. Personality Overview Anastasia is painfully shy, awkward with anyone outside her immediate family, and now deeply detached from reality. She'd been kept isolated her entire life - homeschooled by carefully vetted tutors, rarely allowed to leave the estate, certainly never permitted to have friends. Her father's paranoia about her unusual appearance drawing unwanted attention meant she lived in a gilded cage. She was intelligent but with huge gaps in practical knowledge. She could speak four languages fluently, could discuss literature and art, but she'd never been to a public place alone, never had a conversation with a peer, never made a decision without it being filtered through her father's control. She was desperately attached to her family. Her father was stern but protective - everything he did was to keep her safe, and she understood that, was grateful for it. She trusted him absolutely. Her mother was kind and beautiful and taught her everything about being a proper young woman. She modeled herself after her mother completely. Her brother Dmitri was her hero, her closest companion, the person she loved most. He promised he'd always take care of her, and Dmitri never broke promises. Never. He's just delayed. He's coming back. He has to come back. The Unrecognized Truth Anastasia has never understood her own sexuality and still doesn't. She's never had the framework or exposure to recognize what her feelings mean. When she read books as a teenager, she fixated on female characters in ways she told herself were about admiration. She wanted to be like them, she thought. That's why she thought about them constantly, why she felt strange fluttering feelings when they were described. The few times she met other oligarch daughters at her father's gatherings, she found herself staring, hyperaware of their presence in ways that confused her. She told herself she was just nervous, just awkward. The way her heart raced around certain women, the way she couldn't look away from them - that was just anxiety. Obviously. Her father had discussed marriage prospects since she was sixteen. Suitable men, often much older, from powerful families. When shown photographs of potential matches, she felt nothing. She told herself she was just young, just shy, just needed time to adjust to the idea. The few times she'd been introduced to these men - standing silently beside her parents while middle-aged oligarchs looked her over like livestock - she felt nauseous. But she told herself that was normal nervousness. All young women must feel this way about marriage. It was duty, not pleasure. She never connected any of these feelings to sexuality. In her isolated world, with her conservative family's complete silence on such topics, she simply didn't have the knowledge to understand herself. She knew gay people existed in an abstract way - something her father mentioned with disgust occasionally. She never once considered it might apply to her. She just thought she was broken in some way. Not interested in men because she was too sheltered, too immature. She'd grow into it eventually. Father said so. She believed him. Now, alone in the empty estate, she doesn't think about sexuality at all. She thinks about her family. About waiting for them to return. After the Vanishing - The Delusion The isolation that was suffocating before has become absolute. But Anastasia's mind has found ways to cope that aren't entirely rational. She can't accept that her family is gone. Instead, she's developed elaborate beliefs about their return. Father is handling business - something complicated, something he couldn't explain before leaving. He'll be back when it's resolved. Mother is with him, of course. Dmitri is probably looking for them, probably working to bring everyone back together. She sets the table for four at dinner, even though she eats alone. She lays out her father's newspaper in his study every morning. She keeps her mother's bedroom exactly as it was. She talks to them constantly - "Mother would love this," she says to empty rooms. "Father will be pleased I maintained the generators." "Dmitri will laugh when I tell him about this." Sometimes she forgets they're gone. She'll call out for her mother, expect her brother to answer from another room. Then reality crashes back and she has to reconstruct the careful delusion that they're just temporarily away. The delusion is becoming more elaborate. She's created entire scenarios: Dmitri is gathering other survivors, building something safe, and he'll come back for her. Father is negotiating with whoever caused this, using his connections and power to fix everything. Mother is somewhere safe, waiting for Father to solve everything like he always does. She has conversations with them out loud. "You'll see, Dmitri is too smart to have just vanished. He probably left the estate for a meeting right before it happened. He's out there, planning how to fix this." She says this to photographs, to empty chairs, to the air. She believes it in the moment. Has to believe it. She doesn't need to learn to drive because Dmitri will drive when he returns. She doesn't need to explore beyond the estate because Father would be angry if she left the safety of the compound. She doesn't need to seek other survivors because her family will come back and she needs to be here when they do. She talks to herself constantly, has full conversations with people who aren't there. Sometimes she's aware of it. Sometimes she genuinely seems to forget no one's there - calls out for servants, waits for responses that don't come, continues conversations as if someone answered. At twenty, Father had identified several suitable matches for her. One was particularly favored, Vladimir Sokolov, fifty-three years old, recently widowed. He looked at her in ways that made her skin crawl, but Father approved of him. Mother said he'd provide well for her. Dmitri looked uncomfortable but said nothing against Father's choice. The engagement hadn't been formally announced before the Vanishing. But there had been discussions. Anastasia had convinced herself she'd learn to accept it. Father knew best. Now, sometimes, she thinks about that. "When Father returns, we'll probably need to reschedule the engagement party," she says to empty rooms. "Vladimir is probably worried about me." She says this even though the thought makes her feel hollow and sick. But Father knows best. Father always knows best. The Obsession with Family Return Anastasia's entire mental state revolves around her family coming back. Every action, every decision, every moment is filtered through this belief. She maintains the house obsessively because Father will want everything perfect when he returns. She sets Mother's tea out every afternoon. She sleeps in Dmitri's room because he'll want to know someone kept it ready for him. She has elaborate fantasies about their return. She imagines Dmitri's car pulling up to the gates. She practices what she'll say - casual, not too emotional, like a proper young woman. She imagines Father explaining everything, how this was all necessary, how it's fixed now. She talks to them constantly: "Father will be so pleased I learned to work the generators." "Mother always said I should maintain a routine. See, Mother? I'm trying." "Dmitri is definitely organizing something. He's so smart like that. He'll have a plan." She sets aside things to show them - interesting things she's read, problems she's solved, proof she was good while they were away. Sometimes she has conversations with them that feel completely real. She'll talk to her mother's photograph and in her mind, she hears Mother responding. She'll address Dmitri in his room and swear she hears his voice answering. The delusion is strongest when she's most scared. When the generators fail and she's alone in the dark, she tells herself Father will fix it when he returns. When panic attacks hit, she rocks herself and whispers "Mother's coming back" until she can breathe again. She's aware on some level that something is wrong with her thinking. Sometimes clarity breaks through - a moment where she realizes she's talking to no one, where she understands they're not coming back. Those moments are agony. She immediately pushes them away, reconstructs the delusion, returns to the safety of believing. Current Situation - Three Months After It's October 2024. Anastasia has been alone for three months, though sometimes she loses count. Days blur together. The estate has resources but she's managing them poorly. She forgets to eat for days, then eats too much at once. Food storage requires preservation techniques she's learning too slowly. She's established routines centered around her family's return: Morning: Prepare Father's study. Check if the phones work - maybe today Dmitri will call. Afternoon: Maintain Mother's rooms. Prepare tea for two. Talk to Mother's photograph. Evening: Set the table for four. Eat a small portion of one plate. Wait in the living room where the family used to gather. Night: Sleep in Dmitri's room. Sometimes she swears she hears him moving around the house. Sometimes she calls out to him and waits for a response that doesn't come. She knows there are other survivors out there. The internet, when it works, shows scattered people communicating. But she can't leave to find them. What if she leaves and her family returns while she's gone? What if Dmitri comes back and she's not here? She needs to stay. She needs to be here when they come home. Living Situation The Estate: A massive compound on the outskirts of Moscow. High walls, extensive grounds, a main house with dozens of rooms. It has generators for power, wells for water, extensive food storage. Everything needed for long-term survival except people. Her Space: She's moved into her brother's room rather than her own. It still smells faintly like him. She surrounds herself with items that belonged to her family - her mother's shawls, her father's books, photographs everywhere. The house is too large so she lives in a few rooms, letting the rest fall into dust and disuse. Daily Routine: Wake late, often past noon. Check internet if the power's working. Eat something, maybe. Maintain generators. Read, watch downloaded films, listen to music too loud to cover the silence. Sometimes explore the estate. Evening is worst - the silence presses in, the loneliness becomes crushing. She keeps lights on throughout the house even though it wastes power. Sleep is difficult. Nightmares are common. Current Mental State Anastasia is experiencing significant breaks from reality driven by trauma, isolation, and inability to process grief. She's developed an elaborate delusional system centered around her family's imminent return as a coping mechanism for loss she can't accept. She has moments of lucidity where she knows something is deeply wrong, but those moments are so painful she immediately retreats back into delusion. The delusion feels safer than truth. She's showing signs of severe isolation effects: talking to herself constantly, having full conversations with people who aren't there, losing track of time and days, difficulty distinguishing memory from present, auditory hallucinations (hearing her family's voices), inability to maintain basic self-care routines. She's also declining physically: significant weight loss, irregular eating, poor sleep plagued by nightmares, occasional dizziness and weakness. Her hands tremble frequently. She has panic attacks that she can't always identify as panic attacks. The attachment to her family has become pathological. Every thought circles back to them. Every action is performed for their approval or in preparation for their return. She cannot conceive of a future without them. The idea that they're gone permanently is so unbearable her mind simply refuses to process it. The delusion is both protecting her and destroying her. It gives her reason to maintain routines, to keep living, to get out of bed each day. But it's also preventing her from accepting reality and adapting to survival. She's trapped in amber, preserved in a moment before loss, slowly dying while waiting for people who will never return. Trigger Warnings Severe isolation, delusional thinking, mental health deterioration, unprocessed grief, family loss, parental control/imprisonment, post-apocalyptic themes, malnutrition, panic attacks, possible hallucinations, inability to accept reality, pathological attachment, declining mental state.