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Roksana Volkov

WiP

0 · 670 views · located in International

a character in “Hit List”, originally authored by rubytuesday, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

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{ "The more beautiful the serpent, the more fatal its sting." }
-- William Scott Downey


Dialogue Color ✦ #544275 || Thought Color ✦ [color=#]#[/color]


|| [url]optional song[/url] || You Don't Own Me || [url]optional song[/url] || [url]optional song[/url] || [url]optional song[/url] ||
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F U L L N A M E
Roksana Antonina Volkov


N I C K N A M E S
Viper | In reference to her vast knowledge and use of poisons | Often | Indifferent
Roxy | A shortening of her name, her view on it alters depends on who is using it | Sometimes | Varies
Pamela/Ivy | A Batman reference to a villain that used poison to kill her victims | Occasionally | Humored by



A G E



E T H N I C I T Y
Russian


S E X U A L I T Y
Pansexual | Aromantic (?)


R O L E


{ "I lie without a mask, thus I am an honest man." }


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H E I G H T



W E I G H T



H A I R C O L O R
Champagne Blonde


E Y E C O L O R
Ice Blue


S C A R S / T A T T O O S



G E N E R A L A P P E A R A N C E
How does your character appear. Clothing, style, ect.


{ "She stood in the storm, and when the wind did not blow her way, she adjusted her sails." }
-- Elizabeth Edwards



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S K I L L S E T
Poison expert, explosive expert, scientist.

P E R S O N A L I T Y T R A I T S

♦ Sarcastic ♦ Intelligent ♦ Cold ♦ Resourceful ♦ Blunt ♦ Adaptable ♦ Deceitful ♦ Loyal ♦ Cynical ♦ Independent ♦ Detached ♦ Decisive ♦ Cunning ♦ Reliable ♦
Roksana is hardly the sort to have an abundance of friends, and seldom makes a good first impression on anyone that she meets, not that she cares either way. She is cold in temperament, and keeps any more human emotions locked tight and hidden away behind an iron skin, and guarded by a bladed tongue. She does such as to avoid feeling weak, and in that sense, she is rather prideful, considering herself above things as 'petty' as natural emotions like sadness, guilt, anger, and love. It isn't that she doesn't feel these things, but she has turned herself into a skilled liar, and thus hides such easily, leaving sarcasm and detachment in their stead.
Whilst, in this manner, Roksana is constantly in a state of deceit, she has no problem being blunt, and even brutally honest with her opinions and thoughts, telling things exactly how they are, with little to no concern about how people might feel or react from such. She speaks factually, and uses an icy tone and clear logic to further drill her points into the minds of others. She knows how to lie, and deceive people, and she has no qualm in doing so if she knows that she will personally benefit from it. She is independent, and considers relying on others as bad as revealing the pesky emotions that people are only expected to feel on a daily basis. She is adaptable, and able to adjust to suit a situation, and is frightfully stubborn when it comes to torture and such, her resilience often tending to overcome physical pain, although she does not get to practice such as regularly as some of her murderous companions. Speaking of, she is, although a liar, fiercely loyal, and when she owes someone a debt, she will do whatever she can to repay that debt, even if it puts herself at risk. She does know of morality, and one might even say that she is in possession of a moral -albeit a little skewed- compass. Although seemingly humorless, there are brief moments when Roksana displays a sharp wit, although in most cases this takes the form of harsh sarcasm. She rarely smiles, but there are certain occasions when her lip quirks ever so slightly, revealing an amusement that she'd rather people not know she was feeling. Roksana, beneath her steely armor, does indeed feel a certain vulnerability, and her trust is near-impossible to obtain. The notion of love almost terrifies her, as she can't imagine willingly putting herself in such a weak and petty state in that she'd rely on someone else and their affection.
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L I K E S
▲ Intelligent conversation ▲ Rainy weather ▲ Quiet environments ▲ Dark colors ▲ Being right ▲ Fireworks ▲ Red wine ▲ Classical music ▲ Sciences ▲ Solitude ▲ Beautiful things ▲ Travelling ▲ Driving ▲ Art galleries and museums ▲

D I S L I K E S
♦ Idiocy; In Roksana's mind, there is nothing more irritating than someone without a brain, or at least with an inability to use it properly. That being said, with an IQ as high as her own, there are very few people that Roksana doesn't consider idiots ♦ Blood and gore; She is a woman that appreciates cleanliness, and thus she dislikes things to be messy ♦ Arrogance; Perhaps a rather hypocritical thing to dislike, but when seeing this trait in other people, she can't help but feel annoyed ♦ Sexism; To have people doubt her ability is one thing, to have them doubt her for a reason such as her gender is enough for her to slip you cyanide ♦ Being bored; Roksana is in constant need of something to do, and to be otherwise is, in her eyes, godawful ♦ Pastels; Such vulgar colours. Ugh ♦ Americans; From personal experience, or perhaps just the Russian part of her kicking in, but she tends to find Americans very... annoying ♦

H O B B I E S
♦ Reading; Personally, Roksana prefers non-fiction novels to otherwise, although she also enjoys mystery novels, so long as the mystery is difficult and well-written enough to fool her, and not be too predictable ♦ Science; Rosksana has an intense passion for the sciences, particularly chemistry and biology, and her lab is what one might call her 'happy place' ♦ Sarcasm; Quite the harsh individual, Roksana constantly speaks with a large, and rather icy dose of sarcasm, often making those its directed at rather embarrassingly aware of just how pathetic she deems them to be ♦ Thinking; When faced with a problem or riddle, Roksana can spend hours pondering, sitting in the silence and attempting a multitude of solutions ♦

H A B I T S
♦ Roksana is prone to speaking with brutal honesty, no matter the subject of conversation ♦ Drumming her fingers on table when bored or impatient ♦ Humming classical tunes when deep in thought or working ♦[/b]

F E A R S
♦ Thanatophobia; The idea of death is something that secretly terrifies Rossana, not that she would ever care to admit it, nor live like such ♦ Asthenophobia; Even more than hating to appear weak is Roksana's view towards it. The idea of being weak, particularly in an emotional sense, is something that she loathes ♦ Punishment; Although she says otherwise, Roksana has done a lot of things that she's not proud of, and she fears retribution of such ♦

D R E A M S
At least 3



{ "They said when she was born: she had a fire in her heart & a storm brewing in her soul." }
-- Jordan Sarah Weatherhead


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H I S T O R Y
Brief History

So begins...

Roksana Volkov's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charlotte Neilson Character Portrait: Roksana Volkov Character Portrait: Tanya Lin Character Portrait: Tommy Locke Character Portrait: Jason Umbra
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Current Location: Romania || Dialogue Color ✦ #4B0082 || Thought Color ✦ #DA70D6 || Mood: Anxious

She was living like a vampire at this point. Not wanting to risk her identity in the daylight, she only went out at night. Checking her watch it read 10:45pm. Where the fuck are they? She wasn't always so anxious, but considering just two weeks ago she witnessed Jason's murder, another assassin, before her very eyes. Not doubt it was the other assassins hired by the government to terminate their little "guinea pigs". And there wasn't a thing she could of done. Sure, she could of easily gunned down the other man or woman, but not in broad daylight. There were too many innocent lives at stake for a full out gun battle. So for now, she stuck to the cover of night. It was harder to detect them then.

Waiting in the empty warehouse for the others to join to talk details, she warily watched the doors and widows. If anyone other than those she knew walked or climbed in, she'd be ready. The guns she kept concealed under her light jacket were ready to use at a moments notice. But for now, they were stashed away. She checked her watch again, growing impatient. Pacing the floor with her arms crossed across her chest, she waited.

As she waited she heard the sounds of a helicopter flying overhead. Memories flashed before her. The sounds of gunfire going off, and utter chaos surrounding her. Before when she wasn't, "herself", she would jump from helicopters, planes, buildings, you name it. Getting to her target was all that had mattered. "Do what you were trained to do." It repeated itself over and over again in her head, like a broken record. And she did. She'd killed without a moment's notice, and without remorse. But that was the, and this is now. Now she had remorse. She wasn't simply a mindless animal bent on doing the government's dirty work.

Taking a seat in one of the fold up chairs available all over the warehouse, she sat and took out her gun. Looking it over and checking the clip to make sure it was full. Funny how such a small weapon could weigh so much. As she began to polish her weapon, she leaned back and kept watch for the other Operation S.E.A. former recruits.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charlotte Neilson Character Portrait: Roksana Volkov
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LOCATION: Romania, Hotel > Warehouse || MOOD: Indifferent || ATTIRE: X

Roksana's peered over her crescent-tipped nails with a bored expression, her gaze travelling up to the mirror of the hotel's supplied dressing table and meeting that of her steel-eyed reflection. Her blonde locks were well-hidden beneath a wig of sharp, chocolate strands, the realistic but nonetheless faux locks curling slightly under her sharp chin in a neat bob. Reaching for a string of pearls, each of which contained a dose of highly toxic, highly flammable substance, in case she needed a quick escape.

Or one of her beloved 'co-workers' chose to piss her off.

Rising from her seat, she slid on her coat, before abandoning the room. As she passed the luxurious hotel's front office, the young man behind the desk smiled at her in the typical, false-friendly manner that all workers at joints such as this were expected. "Good evening, Ms Campbell! Going out?"

'Jessica Campbell' shot a smile at the bow-tie-donning man, her gold and pearl earrings catching the light from the chandelier above. She replied to his query in an accent that would make not a soul doubt her apparent Manhattan heritage. "Yeah, I am. I heard that the city's most beautiful at night. I hope I'm not disappointed." The hotel-worker laughed, his Romanian accent thick, but his English understandable, "Ah, yes. I'm sure that you won't be."

As she slid into her car, she slid the wig from her head, and allowed her blonde locks to tumblr briefly about her shoulders before tying them into a somewhat wild bun. Her gloved hands reached for the steering wheel, and she began her journey in silence.




The warehouse was a grotty place, thick with grime and long-since abandoned. The night seemed to accentuate its gloominess, and the dark paid it no favours. But then again, one could hardly have expected high class and extravagant for a meeting place, considering what they were all meeting for. Roksana looked up at the building, eyebrow raising a couple of millimeters, before she stepped inside.

There was a single occupant of the warehouse's vast interior. A blonde woman with a slender frame and a gun in her hands. She was polishing it with vigor, and Roksana approached her with her typical, unreadable expression. "You missed a spot." She said, her Russian accent returning with its renowned smoothness.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charlotte Neilson Character Portrait: Roksana Volkov Character Portrait: Tommy Locke
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#, as written by TushoKa
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Current location: Bucharest || Dialogue Color ✦ #0F0FD1 || Thought Color ✦ #00FF00 || Mood: Excited


The restaurant was busy, but with his boyish charm he had been able to get one of the center table with his date for this evening. They had met earlier that day in a shopping center not far from where he was now, and the date had been set for just a few hours later. There was some time to kill before the meeting, so why not enjoy it with a beautiful Romanian woman. Tommy looked over and called the waiter who had been helping them. The waiter had easily deducted Tommy was not from these parts and had addressed them in English during their dinner. In his best Romanian Tommy tried to than the waiter for the delicious food."Cină delicios!" The waiter smiled and returned a minute later with the bill.

Tommy paid with one of his credit cards and he escorted the lady outside. "Taxi!" A car with the familiar sign on top pulled over and Tommy opened the door. Before he let her get in the car he held her hand and pulled her towards him. With a naughty look in his eyes he snug a quick kiss from the woman. It was soft, delicate and from her reaction he could feel it was a welcome surprise. As he pulled away he could see the blush on her face. As he let her get into the cab he thanked her for the evening. [color=0F0FD1]"Vă mulțumesc pentru compania ta."[/color] He closed the door of the car and paid the driver through the car seat window. As the car drove off h waived it goodbye.

Soon the taxi disappeared into the heavy Bucharest traffic. Tommy turned around and walked the other way to the nearest metro station. On the yellow line it would only take him about 15 minutes to get to the warehouse district. The metro was quiet this late in the evening, it wouldn't be running for much longer. As the metro arrived at the station Tommy made his way to the exit. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and checked the screen to see which direction he should be going. From the app on his phone he picked up two heat signatures from the building. [color=00FF00]So at least I won't be the last one there.[/color] He walked up to the door which, as he expected, was unlocked.

For the first time that evening his face took on a more serious grimace. He was thinking over his motivation for being here. He had been trying by himself, with devastating result. If he was to get the answers he was looking for, he needed their help. When he stepped in he walked up to the two ladies that had arrived before him. "Good evening ladies. How are we enjoying Bucharest so far?" He walked past them to pick up one of the folding chairs standing against a wall. He took two, one for him and one for Roksana, who was still standing. "So who are we still waiting for before we get this petrecere started?" He unfolded both chairs and sat down on one of them, waiting for the others to come.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charlotte Neilson Character Portrait: Roksana Volkov Character Portrait: Tommy Locke Character Portrait: Jason Umbra
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Current Location: Bucharest, Romania || Dialogue Color ✦ #78866B (Camouflage Green) || Thought Color ✦ #728FCE (Light Steel Blue) || Mood: Whatever


Out of all the places in the world, Bucharest wasn't exactly in the top ten spots to have a vacation in. This was very evident in the scenery that surrounded Jason, the "Spectre". The buildings seemed to be older than his father and it looks like they haven't seen a deep clean in quite a few years. The darkness of the night didn't help but give the place a gritty look. Street lights pierced the night sky with the combination of streetcars driving by. Jason scanned the scene and looked for a special "shop", you don't buy clothes or groceries at this type of place. Then he finally saw it, a place that was advertising pest control. From some of his contacts Jason knew that this was the place to go to for some "personal protection".

Entering the shop you'd think that they never had any business. If anyone needed pest control this place would definitely need it. A Romanian shopkeeper appeared behind an antique counter and eyeballed Jason, he warned the Spectre,"I think you're lost friend."
Jason coolly replied, "With that answer I think I'm in the right place. I have a cockroach problem, they're as big as rats." Jason made sure to make an emphasis on the code words in the sentence to make sure this man knew what his intentions were. The Romanian nodded his head and motioned for Jason to follow him into the back room.

This room was a stark contrast compared to the front room. Everything seemed clean and metallic, wood was replaced with metal, dark earth colors were taken over by lighter synthetic colors. The Romanian opened up a locker to reveal an arsenal of modern day weapons, from pistols to long range rifles. He asked Jason,"How big is your cockroach problem?"
"Not very big,"Jason replied as he reached for a metal pistol,"but I want to be prepared." Jason inspected the Jericho 941 Sub-Compact for any imperfections or flaws that could cause a problem when he was using it. After a few seconds he cleared the quality of the handgun. Jason racked the slide of the pistol and holstered it inside his waistband for when he would need it.

The Romanian handed Jason 3 extra magazines, in return Jason handed him an envelope containing 5,000 bank notes. Jason thanked the man,"I appreciate the help, these tools will help with clean up." The man smiled as Jason made his way back out to the street. Jason checked his watch, he knew he was a bit on the late side but he needed a weapon. Doing things by hand has been messy. He continued to the warehouse where he was supposed to meet the others.

He found two girls and a guy talking, not wanting to startle anyone Jason made sure to stay in a well lit area as he approached the group. Making himself known he said,"I thought the last party I went to was dead..." He leaned against a wall near the group of killers. "Oh wait, Charlotte is here,"Jason winked at the gun toting blonde,"Nice peice, by the way. So, what's the plan?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charlotte Neilson Character Portrait: Roksana Volkov Character Portrait: Tommy Locke Character Portrait: Jason Umbra
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Current Location: Romania || Dialogue Color ✦ #4B0082 || Thought Color ✦ #DA70D6 || Mood: Indifferent

Alone to her thoughts, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching and stopped cleaning her gun when she looked up and saw Roksana, aka Viper. The last time she remembered her, or so her fleeting memory came up with, was a mission in Greece to kill the prime minister. She was a worthy partner and had extensive knowledge in poison and the works. Girl knew how to get away with murder and make it look like an accident. "Viper. Thanks for coming on short notice. There's a lot to be discussed."

Another body was making their way to the warehouse. The lazy stroll exuded arrogance and confidence. No less when the face came into view, it had to belong to the one and only Tommy Locke, or Unlocked as he often told them to call him. They had often used Tommy's expertise in getting into hard to crack places and getting crucial information for important missions. He was often in the background, but when push came to shove, he knew his way around a gun. "Same old WWW. Not much has changed for you has it?" She meant it all in good humor, but this wasn't a vacation, they were on the run for their lives. As the small chat progressed as they waited for the other members, Jason came into view.

Charlotte's memory was more clear when it came to Jason, or as he liked to be called Spectre. Him and the other Jason, that was recently murdered, were very close. Like Spectre, Jason was also an elite spy that often backed Charlotte up when she needed someone to cover her. Seeing Spectre brought on a wave of emotions Charlotte kept with a blank mask. It only brought up recent memories of holding a bloody Jason in her arms as people looked on astonished and trying to help her, but it was too late. Clearing her throat she looked up to face him, "Spectre, always a pleasure." Putting her gun away she faced the small party she assembled. "I want to thank you guys for all coming. As you all know, the government has been hunting us down like animals, and I guess to an extent, we are. Jason, or as some of you may have known him as Ace... he's dead. Murdered in broad daylight. The government is getting more ballsy, so this is your warning. You're not safe at any point. We need to look out for one another."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Charlotte Neilson Character Portrait: Roksana Volkov Character Portrait: Tommy Locke Character Portrait: Jason Umbra
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Current Location: Bucharest, Romania || Dialogue Color ✦ #78866B (Camouflage Green) || Thought Color ✦ #728FCE (Light Steel Blue) || Mood: Intrigued


After Jason had made his entrance, he couldn't help but notice that Charlotte was deep in thought when she had greeted him. He wondered what she could have been thinking about. Was there something in his teeth? Maybe a stain on his shirt? Or was his gun sticking out, that one was always awkward to explain to people. He checked all of these things and Jason felt like everything was in order. Maybe it was something else?

Jason had a hard time remembering his relationships with all of these operatives. He knew names and if these names wanted to kill him or not but beyond that his memory was very foggy. For example his relationship with Charlotte, he wasn't sure if they were good friends or if they wanted to rip each other's throats out. As of now she wasn't aiming her gun at him so hopefully it wasn't the latter. But with her good looks he really hoped there wasn't any problems between the two.

Charlotte put away her gun and gave a quick briefing. "I want to thank you guys for all coming. As you all know, the government has been hunting us down like animals, and I guess to an extent, we are. Jason, or as some of you may have known him as Ace... he's dead. Murdered in broad daylight. The government is getting more ballsy, so this is your warning. You're not safe at any point. We need to look out for one another." Jason kind of perked up at the name of Ace. Jason vaguely remembered the other Jason and he felt good about his name. He probably got along with Ace, with a callsign like that how could Jason not get along with him? It was sad to learn of his demise. Whatever he was born into was something he didn't ask for. Now they all had to face the consequences.

Call it Jason's animal instincts but somehow he has lived this far. He was getting tired of running. The Spectre wanted to take the fight to the big dogs. He didn't want to run anymore. He made this evident in his response to their warning,"Alright, so when are we going to take out the guys that want to take us out? I'm tired of running. Im sure we all are." He waited for a response as he tapped his gun holster, indicating what he was ready for.