Vorona
"My confidence cannot be taken."
Name: Nikita Aslanov
Alias: Vorona
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 122lbs
Eye Colour: Contact-lens.
Hair Colour: White and black
Alignment: Your shoulders and the canvas.
Theme: Crow
Alias: Vorona
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 122lbs
Eye Colour: Contact-lens.
Hair Colour: White and black
Alignment: Your shoulders and the canvas.
Theme: Crow
Wrestling Look
Sexfighting Attire
Alternate Combat Outfits
Vorona's Comeuppance Saga
Bikini
Bunny
Hello Little One...
Lingerie Shot
Everyday Shot
Dresses & Suits
A well awarded POW (NSFW)
Workout Attire
Promo
The Finale
Wrestling Information
Physical StatsEndurance: ★★ - A palisade of glass protects the naked temple. But she’ll insist otherwise.
Strength: ★★ - Serviceable, but personal aesthetic has its cost.
Speed: ★★★ - Decisive, if not fluent in action for all her needs.
Defense: ★★★ - Her reflexes are immortal, but her strike defence is seldom and she’s easily stunned
Technique: ★★★★★ - Aesthetic at its finest.
Wrestling Stats
Strikes: ★★★★ - Chops. High kicks. Thigh hits.
Submissions: ★★★★★ - Achieving submission is the soul of aesthetic.
Powerhouse: ★★ - Unlikely lifting anyone except for suplexes.
Aerial: ★ - No.
Counters: ★★★ - As taking damage is inexcusable, she invests heavily in its impossibility.
Wrasslin’ Style: Vorona is always looking to win and make it look as effortless as possible. Something she excels at, with taunts during submissions, poses and sexy pinfalls whilst spitting in your face. She schemes often, both short and long-term on your downfall and cheats as easy as she breathes. Her opening play is typically aggressive, where she uses quick grapples and strikes that lead into suplexes that target the upper-body. She makes frequent use of holds and submissions, as well as chaining her moves together to wear you down along with painful chops and humiliation moves. She’s a savant at this.
You can imagine how this might suit her in a sex-fighting situation, which she doesn’t stray from. Rather, she can be quite fond of getting tangly there, leaving little room to squirm and finishing them off with style. This is often her end game. To win with aesthetic.
Winning lets her seal how it was effortless. If you’re lucky, she’ll roll you into a paradise hold, or, paint on your body for all to see.
Strengths: Cool-headedness plays a lot into her flow, but it mostly serves her psychological composure to keep control over any situation. She has a rhythm and knows her style like a savant. Her speed, especially when it comes to her strikes, make them hit like a thunderclap. It also helps to avoid damage.
Her self-motivating perfectionism keeps her adapting to the playing field and she’ll sometimes target a limb if that will hinder their advantage. And, an adeptness in the sensual field of this sport. Calm wits and self-control have their many uses. Such as controlling her pain and pleasure, hiding it under silence and subtle contempt. You can also count on Winter Songbird to give her aid whenever the artist calls. Add that with the myriad of ways she’s willing to dodge the rules, your chances of victory fall to 0, and you’ll become just another seat and canvas she paints to attentive eyes. The villain always wins.
Weaknesses: Her itch for a bit of showmanship and humiliation can bite her, with that keenness to prolong fights to make an opponent submit mentally, rather than execute a finish. She has a grandiose sense of self-confidence that inflates her stamina, durability, pain and sexual threshold well above actual reality.
But. She avoids damage at all costs, but especially big slams, powerbombs, piledrivers or otherwise moves with a lot of force behind them. Strikes, spears and top rope moves are moves she resents the most. The critical detail tends to be her very sensitive abdominal region. The pain is often great, physically and psychologically, and her composure gets rocked. Makeup gets ruined and she gets furious at her own squealing and grovelling. At any painted noises that is. You can watch and feel her face flush white and her body shiver when the area is threatened, that she locks up and forgets her plan. The ever-so-secret arousal that comes from repeated abuse. At the same time, she denies the possibility of losing in her schemes. Frankly, one kick between the legs is a good enough reminder.
Being dominated or humiliated will always have its way into her head, both in fear and overt anger. Anything that undoes her precious plan makes her blood boil. While this stage of her can be equally, if not more dangerous as she pushes her limits — it’s prone to tiring and mistakes, where she slows down and tries to end it swiftly, either by submission, a dirty cheat into a pinfall or DQ to end the match prematurely.
Signatures:
Running Lariat
Fireman Carry Neckbreaker
Superkick
Release German Suplex
Paint Mist
Gates Of Regalia
Masterstroke
Twisted Pupil
Personality
Nikita Aslanov considers herself walking aesthetic, shaped by her pursuits of perfection and beauty. Arrogance to her is not a flaw, but a must-have and well-deserved feature of herself. Assurance in her own victory. As she puts it, “It’s better to claim defeat is impossible than acknowledge it, as once we do, then we learn to quit.” -- Thus, she comes with a natural instinct to control, command and manipulate the situation she finds herself in: as lack of control means being controlled, and that is simply violating.
She shapes herself much like a prince in some ways. Her clothing is often more masculine with exceptions to certain events and wrestling shows. Her speech is forward, candid, concise and often critical. Her tone is dipped in pleasantry with an undertone of arrogance. However, talking tends to not be her exact favourite thing outside private or intimate company, so will often purposefully ignore folks and see confrontation as beneath her.
She considers herself a poet, enjoys reading 20th century literature and she enjoys scripting blips of her own philosophy and thoughts onto a notepad. If you go deep into her personal belongings, one would find this was how she came to remember English.
You can call her someone with a tipped-up chin and with a surface layer of neutrality that often assesses and then chooses the direction of most “aesthetic” aka personal reward. She’s very conscious to who she gives attention to, but remains civil and often cordial. Underneath that, she harbours a rather unimpressed view with most people. She doesn’t believe in their ability to make good decisions, hence controls them when she can; often her muses. She micro-manages them and assumes to know best. It gives her a very strong sense of detail. But she also pushes their talent to occasionally abusive standards in hopes to create their “epiphany” and defined moment of perfection. Because on the opposite end, she believes that the most disgusting thing to exist is: wasted talent.
Despite the grandiosity, Vorona isn’t a loud person. She doesn’t tolerate foolishness, stupid and likes it when people talk quieter than her. Composure is central to her, especially in wrestling. This goes for her temper and pain management, but the sport often has ways of slipping her shields and waning her patience. From slight things in her entrance going awry, to the disrespect of fellow wrestlers, her makeup running, to being punched in the stomach: it brings arousal and pain that eventually causes her to react callously and recklessly. To her, struggling like a normal wrestler should be beneath her. And in her world, she’d rather a one-sided showcase of her skill and talent, beauty and finishing technique.
She is very, very not beneath stooping to cheating, humiliation, emotional abuse and acts of cowardice to avoid becoming a folded fool. Consider her image! Thus, while investing considerable time in what she believes are her “flaws” -- she also spends time scheming the perfect way to cheat the rules and create that ideal one-sided match. This often has Winter Songbird as her assistant in this heelish crime, ready to ploy, delay, splat and scurry for the sake of winning and performance.
She shapes herself much like a prince in some ways. Her clothing is often more masculine with exceptions to certain events and wrestling shows. Her speech is forward, candid, concise and often critical. Her tone is dipped in pleasantry with an undertone of arrogance. However, talking tends to not be her exact favourite thing outside private or intimate company, so will often purposefully ignore folks and see confrontation as beneath her.
She considers herself a poet, enjoys reading 20th century literature and she enjoys scripting blips of her own philosophy and thoughts onto a notepad. If you go deep into her personal belongings, one would find this was how she came to remember English.
You can call her someone with a tipped-up chin and with a surface layer of neutrality that often assesses and then chooses the direction of most “aesthetic” aka personal reward. She’s very conscious to who she gives attention to, but remains civil and often cordial. Underneath that, she harbours a rather unimpressed view with most people. She doesn’t believe in their ability to make good decisions, hence controls them when she can; often her muses. She micro-manages them and assumes to know best. It gives her a very strong sense of detail. But she also pushes their talent to occasionally abusive standards in hopes to create their “epiphany” and defined moment of perfection. Because on the opposite end, she believes that the most disgusting thing to exist is: wasted talent.
Despite the grandiosity, Vorona isn’t a loud person. She doesn’t tolerate foolishness, stupid and likes it when people talk quieter than her. Composure is central to her, especially in wrestling. This goes for her temper and pain management, but the sport often has ways of slipping her shields and waning her patience. From slight things in her entrance going awry, to the disrespect of fellow wrestlers, her makeup running, to being punched in the stomach: it brings arousal and pain that eventually causes her to react callously and recklessly. To her, struggling like a normal wrestler should be beneath her. And in her world, she’d rather a one-sided showcase of her skill and talent, beauty and finishing technique.
She is very, very not beneath stooping to cheating, humiliation, emotional abuse and acts of cowardice to avoid becoming a folded fool. Consider her image! Thus, while investing considerable time in what she believes are her “flaws” -- she also spends time scheming the perfect way to cheat the rules and create that ideal one-sided match. This often has Winter Songbird as her assistant in this heelish crime, ready to ploy, delay, splat and scurry for the sake of winning and performance.
History
Nikita Aslanov was born in Vladivostok, Russia. Her early years were rather blurry.
She is the child of Aculina and Andriy, the former being renown as Cryo, a superstar who gained international prominence for a brief while. However, that woman was hardly remembered. Most of her memories begin months after a car crash, where the stress turned her hair into snow and ash. Everything really began when she was living with her grandparents, and reading books while sitting on this single mattress that creaked on every toss and turn. Light peeped through the window and danced on her picture book, illuminating these big cartoonish eyes. Going from page to page was the dearest thing. Lines and colour. It took a while to understand shading. All these concepts that weren't really perceived, but observed and attempted to replicate, over and over.
She wasn’t fond of talking whatsoever.
Only when pushed.
School didn’t bring her much good. Most parents, then teachers and then students caught wind of who her mother was. An addict - a disgraced athlete who played a thug in organized crime. It didn’t help that Nikita used her as a threat against bullies. They left her alone afterwards -- which suited Nikita, who loved doing her own things. She just wanted their yammering to stop. She wanted to read in peace, play games on her own or in small groups, draw and climb trees. Lots of her time was spent in her Grandparents store, fishing out old literature books and looking at pictures, to a brief touch with music that went nowhere and begging for a bird every now and again. She had an early interest in learning English from this to read different books, and to talk in a way not many kids understood. By the time she graduated High School, she had an average academic score but exceptionally high art ability that got her a scholarship to attend in Moscow.
In this world, Nikita became much more expressive and willing to share her art, have opinions and develop. Amongst her peers, she was praised, well-liked, if not slightly scary with her stern tone. Professors applauded her too, as someone distinguished, polite, talented and well-rounded. She specialised in expressionism, with particular strength in her colours, lighting and story, often depicting complex emotions of the subject, whether environment or person. This was the centre of aesthetic for her: expressionism. Theatre in colour and canvas. To her, this was the chase of literal, undeniable, true perfection.
Over the course of two years, she tried to sell her paintings to small success. She felt low-balled and insulted by their opinions. They took issue with her name and the reputation of her incarcerated mother. And, most of all, she was simply overshadowed by better connected artists. But she didn’t want to submit, sell or showcase her pieces in anything but the place they deserved. So she slowly sunk into a slump and soon her scholarship was pulled.
Tough times came with being awful with money. She tried to be lavish and reward herself with fine meals. Her small jobs often came with trying to achieve a perfect execution, such as experimental adjustments to recipes, new bartending techniques and scripted responses to customers that came with a “procedural” slap to the face for repeated rudeness.
Between her multiple firings, Nikita was a sketch artist who drew publicly for tips and sometimes took commissions. Her pieces often involved muses of some kind, going on long talks about their life, talents and goals. Then, they’d get an art piece at the end for the commission fee. Oftentimes, this led to dates and sex, turning into FWBs. Things became relatively stable through this, but she knew she was special -- and wanted more.
Nikita found wrestling about this time. A very low-end show, mostly. But it was popular for getting sketches. Her idea of the ring was that people would simply love her and enjoy seeing her dominate the ring, then, when she finished, her business would boom. So she jumped through the hoops and lied about her experience to get on the card. Then: got her ass kicked. What she learned is that she wasn’t the most durable thing out there. The crowd also took to boo’ing her instead, finding her posture, attitude and brash behaviours easy to rally against. They also found her sexy as fuck.
This was about the first time she called herself Vorona and she described her indie experience as genuine, tough but euphoric. She started seeing this sport as an artform. The wrestlers and their skill, drive and individuality drove a sense of fire within her to train and become the perfect wrestling expressionist. The money as well, and the politics that go beyond it. It felt reminiscent of the established art world, full of strata, and gave her such valuable lessons.
She painted with new passion and took on more muses at once to fill her artistic and slightly hedonistic appetites. Aleksandra Sikora was one of them -- whom she drew for free and the two began to date. Vorona took an interest in her singing and other musical talents, wanted them to grow, so pushed and pushed her to an abusive and competitive level. Vorona promised to make her a star. The two were in love -- and Aleksandra, soon renamed Winter Songbird, devoted her entire independence, self and soul to supporting and subserving to Vorona’s every desire. Vorona would be her sun.
As Vorona’s appetites continued growing, she needed more money. For her muses, for Aleksandra’s coaching, for everything. So Vorona would begin creating forgeries and masterworks. Complete copies and other requests like that had a keen authentic feel. Vorona saw this as punishing those with bad taste, hiding a spiteful exposing secret that only expert eyes can undo.
She often did this in concert with sabotaging other works of art in exhibits.
This could be:
In this way, Vorona was a light to make them beautiful.
The guide; almost a religion of her own, chasing perfect aesthetic. And she: the High Priestess and God. Her attention and care become valuable. Invaluable. Her word becomes enshrined and she often enjoys a sense of romantic experiences with her muses. And sex. And of course, Vorona loved to flaunt and impress not just them, but everyone who laid eyes on her. So she often took her muses to public outings, prettied up, perfect, then danced flawlessly -- taking pride in looking down at others.
Wrestlers can too become muses. They represent a particular itch in Vorona’s heart that loves stomping and punishing bad tastes. The inferiority of their outfits, their persona, their struggle and feelings. Wrestling is a stage for her aesthetic expression, fit for dramatic and perfect performance, and beauty through combat. It’s only natural that everyone, including wrestlers, should sit down and get their hands ready to clap… or tap.
She is the child of Aculina and Andriy, the former being renown as Cryo, a superstar who gained international prominence for a brief while. However, that woman was hardly remembered. Most of her memories begin months after a car crash, where the stress turned her hair into snow and ash. Everything really began when she was living with her grandparents, and reading books while sitting on this single mattress that creaked on every toss and turn. Light peeped through the window and danced on her picture book, illuminating these big cartoonish eyes. Going from page to page was the dearest thing. Lines and colour. It took a while to understand shading. All these concepts that weren't really perceived, but observed and attempted to replicate, over and over.
She wasn’t fond of talking whatsoever.
Only when pushed.
School didn’t bring her much good. Most parents, then teachers and then students caught wind of who her mother was. An addict - a disgraced athlete who played a thug in organized crime. It didn’t help that Nikita used her as a threat against bullies. They left her alone afterwards -- which suited Nikita, who loved doing her own things. She just wanted their yammering to stop. She wanted to read in peace, play games on her own or in small groups, draw and climb trees. Lots of her time was spent in her Grandparents store, fishing out old literature books and looking at pictures, to a brief touch with music that went nowhere and begging for a bird every now and again. She had an early interest in learning English from this to read different books, and to talk in a way not many kids understood. By the time she graduated High School, she had an average academic score but exceptionally high art ability that got her a scholarship to attend in Moscow.
In this world, Nikita became much more expressive and willing to share her art, have opinions and develop. Amongst her peers, she was praised, well-liked, if not slightly scary with her stern tone. Professors applauded her too, as someone distinguished, polite, talented and well-rounded. She specialised in expressionism, with particular strength in her colours, lighting and story, often depicting complex emotions of the subject, whether environment or person. This was the centre of aesthetic for her: expressionism. Theatre in colour and canvas. To her, this was the chase of literal, undeniable, true perfection.
Over the course of two years, she tried to sell her paintings to small success. She felt low-balled and insulted by their opinions. They took issue with her name and the reputation of her incarcerated mother. And, most of all, she was simply overshadowed by better connected artists. But she didn’t want to submit, sell or showcase her pieces in anything but the place they deserved. So she slowly sunk into a slump and soon her scholarship was pulled.
Tough times came with being awful with money. She tried to be lavish and reward herself with fine meals. Her small jobs often came with trying to achieve a perfect execution, such as experimental adjustments to recipes, new bartending techniques and scripted responses to customers that came with a “procedural” slap to the face for repeated rudeness.
Between her multiple firings, Nikita was a sketch artist who drew publicly for tips and sometimes took commissions. Her pieces often involved muses of some kind, going on long talks about their life, talents and goals. Then, they’d get an art piece at the end for the commission fee. Oftentimes, this led to dates and sex, turning into FWBs. Things became relatively stable through this, but she knew she was special -- and wanted more.
Nikita found wrestling about this time. A very low-end show, mostly. But it was popular for getting sketches. Her idea of the ring was that people would simply love her and enjoy seeing her dominate the ring, then, when she finished, her business would boom. So she jumped through the hoops and lied about her experience to get on the card. Then: got her ass kicked. What she learned is that she wasn’t the most durable thing out there. The crowd also took to boo’ing her instead, finding her posture, attitude and brash behaviours easy to rally against. They also found her sexy as fuck.
This was about the first time she called herself Vorona and she described her indie experience as genuine, tough but euphoric. She started seeing this sport as an artform. The wrestlers and their skill, drive and individuality drove a sense of fire within her to train and become the perfect wrestling expressionist. The money as well, and the politics that go beyond it. It felt reminiscent of the established art world, full of strata, and gave her such valuable lessons.
She painted with new passion and took on more muses at once to fill her artistic and slightly hedonistic appetites. Aleksandra Sikora was one of them -- whom she drew for free and the two began to date. Vorona took an interest in her singing and other musical talents, wanted them to grow, so pushed and pushed her to an abusive and competitive level. Vorona promised to make her a star. The two were in love -- and Aleksandra, soon renamed Winter Songbird, devoted her entire independence, self and soul to supporting and subserving to Vorona’s every desire. Vorona would be her sun.
As Vorona’s appetites continued growing, she needed more money. For her muses, for Aleksandra’s coaching, for everything. So Vorona would begin creating forgeries and masterworks. Complete copies and other requests like that had a keen authentic feel. Vorona saw this as punishing those with bad taste, hiding a spiteful exposing secret that only expert eyes can undo.
She often did this in concert with sabotaging other works of art in exhibits.
This could be:
- paying someone to destroy a work of art, or a favour asked of a muse.
- direct, cold and detailed criticism that broke the artist’s fragile ego.
- creating a very similar piece and quite simply: doing it better. this being her favoured method.
In this way, Vorona was a light to make them beautiful.
The guide; almost a religion of her own, chasing perfect aesthetic. And she: the High Priestess and God. Her attention and care become valuable. Invaluable. Her word becomes enshrined and she often enjoys a sense of romantic experiences with her muses. And sex. And of course, Vorona loved to flaunt and impress not just them, but everyone who laid eyes on her. So she often took her muses to public outings, prettied up, perfect, then danced flawlessly -- taking pride in looking down at others.
Wrestlers can too become muses. They represent a particular itch in Vorona’s heart that loves stomping and punishing bad tastes. The inferiority of their outfits, their persona, their struggle and feelings. Wrestling is a stage for her aesthetic expression, fit for dramatic and perfect performance, and beauty through combat. It’s only natural that everyone, including wrestlers, should sit down and get their hands ready to clap… or tap.
Match Exhibits
Vs Arma-Gil-O - CANCELLED
Vs Yuki Origang - COMPLETED
Vs Cassie Meyers - CANCELLED
Vs Astrea - COMPLETED
Vs Eshe Abdallah - PAUSED
Vs Yuki Kazikura - ONGOING
Vs Ema Sakura - ONGOING
Vs Darina Daybreak - ONGOING