"I once knew Mister Moon and Misses Sun.
I ate the first and loved the latter.
She's the only one who kept me warm."
I ate the first and loved the latter.
She's the only one who kept me warm."
Name: Aleksandra Sikora
Stage/Preferred Name: Winter Songbird
Height: 5"
Weight: 104lbs
Eye Colour: Purple
Hair Colour: Black and purple.
Alignment: Face
Theme: Damselette
Stage/Preferred Name: Winter Songbird
Height: 5"
Weight: 104lbs
Eye Colour: Purple
Hair Colour: Black and purple.
Alignment: Face
Theme: Damselette
Wrestling Look
Alt
Preparing for a performance
Always something new
Underwear
Made to be Seen
Joyous Unbreakable Faith
Fantasies behind the curtains
Dolled Up
And treated very well (NSFW)
Wrestling Information
Wrasslin’ Style: Winter loves to have fun inside the ring. She’s a show woman, eager to please, to entertain and spread a little joy in her growing abilities, hoping to use them to maximum effect! Her awareness is good, she likes to go for dropkicks, drop toeholds and clinging her body around for splashes, crossbodies and the spear. She’s fit and has good stamina, but is humble enough to know her limits, so she’s not eager to take that many risks. She tends to go for joint submissions over chokes that manipulate and control an opponent, and ones that don’t require much force to be effective.
For strikes she favours knees and aims for the head with step-ups and occasionally a little springboard. On the defence, Winter is more prone to just run away from danger or drive an elbow down on you. She grapples to escape rather than to truly play a back and forth counter game. Then if things get too bad, she has little qualms about using a cheat or two.
In the dominant position, Winter doesn’t mind doing some showboating or playfully adjusting the pressure in her holds just to showcase control and getting a little squeal. It’s not entirely malevolent or mean-spirited, just that she wants to impress someone. And frankly, using you is her way of achieving that.
At the end of the day, her mission is to leave the ring satisfied in her effort, to have it recognized and acknowledged, win or lose.
Strengths: She benefits from having a decent amount of stamina and fitness, along with a good constitution overall. She has excellent timing and has good control over her body, with a knack for kicking it up a notch when she needs to and holds firm, both physically and mentally. Frankly, her strongest quality is likely knowing her own limits, working inside them and focusing on executing the moves proper. She wants to grow, but she's in no rush to break her leg trying something stupid.
Weaknesses: While being a new name brings its obvious perks and downsides, her size being another, what is undeniably her greatest weakness is her feeble pain tolerance and threshold. She is a fairly high sensitivity to pain - and can only drown it with being vocal, either with remarks or plain spilling out cries. Its not to say her mental fortitude is weak, but her body certainly can be.
Signatures:
Handspring Back Elbow
Frankensteiner
Sunset Flip Powerbomb
Shining Wizard
The Crescendo
Swan Song
Personality
Winter is known for a cheerful and smug demeanour that’s lax, whimsical and easy-going. Her nature is one centred around friendliness and optimism, almost like a beacon of a unique brand of hope. One around contentment. Her speech can be off at times thanks to her learning English in only recent years. She’s known as trusting and sometimes drawn to malevolent or grandiose figures. They are often a source of fun for her, to observe and sometimes play into. Winter likes to disregard her own safety to antagonise these figures at the same time, or even those she suspects have a hidden bite to them. Consequences are but an afterthought. This is often to bring the attention of Vorona - the one she regards as her universe. Her Sun. They taught her English, gave her hobbies, an identity, an aesthetic. Winter seems almost entirely devoted to gaining her attention, touch, praise or abuse. Anything from her was godsent. And testing her Sun’s protection and her own value through manipulation of jealousy, self-induced danger and the notion she may wander has become a source of pleasure.
Really - Aleksandra sought to alleviate her hands of worry. She didn’t want to do anything but use her voice to make art. She didn’t want any reward but to do that again. Her passiveness towards possessions was often linked to that, beyond necessities, she was humble and content just doing what she wanted whatever the consequence was. Perhaps it was apathetic, self-serving and fantastical to think she was that special to deserve to live without stress - until, someone treated her that way, and that wish was actualised at the cost of her autonomy as a person. She did not mind.
Apathy for people is another thing she struggled with. Her ability to connect, network or even hold relationships was often lacklustre beyond superficial. Neither did she possess a malevolent grudge against anyone, really, she wished them the best and would do favours for acquaintances. She simply floated around in her headspace. Only in Vorona did she find someone to truly orbit. But that apathy and ill-sense of consequences now is encouraged to please her. She is willing to hurt and be moulded into anything for a good lap to sleep on.
Really - Aleksandra sought to alleviate her hands of worry. She didn’t want to do anything but use her voice to make art. She didn’t want any reward but to do that again. Her passiveness towards possessions was often linked to that, beyond necessities, she was humble and content just doing what she wanted whatever the consequence was. Perhaps it was apathetic, self-serving and fantastical to think she was that special to deserve to live without stress - until, someone treated her that way, and that wish was actualised at the cost of her autonomy as a person. She did not mind.
Apathy for people is another thing she struggled with. Her ability to connect, network or even hold relationships was often lacklustre beyond superficial. Neither did she possess a malevolent grudge against anyone, really, she wished them the best and would do favours for acquaintances. She simply floated around in her headspace. Only in Vorona did she find someone to truly orbit. But that apathy and ill-sense of consequences now is encouraged to please her. She is willing to hurt and be moulded into anything for a good lap to sleep on.
History
Aleksandra Sikora was found in Warsaw, Poland.
She’s not too forward on where she was born, but what has been seldom shared since her connection to Nikita Aslanov - is that insists she came from the midst of nowhere, and sought the city for a chance at making something special. She was originally in University in her old life, and originally came to Warsaw for a delve into biology. But that was quite a fantastical lie. While - yes, she was enrolled and studied just enough to look like she cared, she really was intrigued with show biz. Her voice was one of an abominable angel. Rarely did she sing lyrical, but in melodic sounds that belted notes bigger than her body. This was much thanks to a vocal coach she had in her childhood. She was involved in school plays and church choirs. This all dried up by the time she was an adult.
It was around twenty one that she started slipping. Her growing sense of apathy and passiveness to things around her put her grades at odds, and she eventually dropped out. For a while, her main source of income came from singing at bars, street performing and dates with people. Of course, she kept an odd part-time job or two, but she struggled to keep them. It was one street performance by a church, underneath a lamp post in a malevolent winter evening - she met Nikita Aslanov, an artist who often introduced herself as Vorona. Aleksandra was treated to dinner, sex and a comfy bed to wake up in. But then she left. The next Thursday, they met again at the same spot. And they did it again. Again the next Thursday, each time a bit more personal, a bit more aggressive and controlling until day rolled around and Aleksandra left again.
One of those times, Nikita came around to paint her in the midst of January. A little dandelion against the ferocity of cold. Light surrounded by shadows. The dilapidated but homey church, matched with that of brick modernity, steel skeleton buildings and dancing smog in the swallowing firmaments, eating the stars and moon until the sun broke it up. During this time, they came to connect and know each other. Aleksandra was made to revere Nikita as this goddess of aesthetics. The control she ceded became greater, unequal on so many levels. She felt happier. Vorona’s menacing eyes were scarier. Her jewellery shined brighter with each passing day. Everything about Nikita just seemed larger than life to her. She noticed Nikita’s change in attitude as well, who often looked away and bit the corner of her mouth to stop smiling at times. More bashful. Even a sense of humour which was once devoid. But everytime she asked something a bit too personal, Aleksandra was scolded. Next day, maybe next week, the answer was often ceded. It was a game. They talked about the future a lot, whatever little semblance Aleksandra had, contrasted with Nikita’s perfect picture. Often it devolved into fantasies. What if they ruled the world? What if they were the most important people? And what is one flavour of sponge you’d find most tasty? The usual. But most striking was the idea of Aleksandra finally being able to take her street performance to real stages. Could she? Would she? That was often unsaid.
By the time of spring - Nikita moved on and returned to Russia, leaving Aleksandra with the best of luck. They spoke vaguely over text, and Aleksandra thought they were finished there. What she found was an obsession with this woman, and spent all year saving to surprise Nikita next Winter. When these plans became known, she received mail addressed to “Winter’s Songbird” and opened it to find a dress and a letter with a heart. Aleksandra chose not to open that letter, and instead allowed her imagination to overpower any conceivable body of text. They met again in Yekaterinburg at a party, sharing a dance, dinner and intimacy. The next morning, she didn’t need to leave. From now on, she was Nikita’s dedicated muse. Her Winter Songbird underneath the sun.
It was that Winter Songbird that got to play before so-called real crowds. Winter played her heart out to suit Nikita’s aesthetic and receive all the attention that came after. They were always at a metaphorical arm’s length, and Winter always followed close behind Nikita’s choices, who still played with other muses from time to time, so Winter joined. She learned English from Nikita, who read her books and poems, as well as her new manner of dress. There was no longer a need to care for herself, all essentials and pleasures were provided. She hardly needed to ask. It was all there as naturally as the sun provided warmth. Never did she feel so happy.
But soon she hit a slump in the last song to fill an album. It was to be a gift in a grand marriage proposal. But, she couldn't muster that last scrap of magic. She tried many things from walks to listening to other artists, to more exotic things like yoga, talking to herself and doing other activities. Then she looked to her Sun and found she was in love with wrestling. That was enough for Winter to pursue and ask to be trained, and naturally, her Sun provided. She had a lot to overcome, and trained vigorously to find her rhythm and now seeks to prove that in LAW, hoping these wrestlers can offer that spark of inspiration.
She’s not too forward on where she was born, but what has been seldom shared since her connection to Nikita Aslanov - is that insists she came from the midst of nowhere, and sought the city for a chance at making something special. She was originally in University in her old life, and originally came to Warsaw for a delve into biology. But that was quite a fantastical lie. While - yes, she was enrolled and studied just enough to look like she cared, she really was intrigued with show biz. Her voice was one of an abominable angel. Rarely did she sing lyrical, but in melodic sounds that belted notes bigger than her body. This was much thanks to a vocal coach she had in her childhood. She was involved in school plays and church choirs. This all dried up by the time she was an adult.
It was around twenty one that she started slipping. Her growing sense of apathy and passiveness to things around her put her grades at odds, and she eventually dropped out. For a while, her main source of income came from singing at bars, street performing and dates with people. Of course, she kept an odd part-time job or two, but she struggled to keep them. It was one street performance by a church, underneath a lamp post in a malevolent winter evening - she met Nikita Aslanov, an artist who often introduced herself as Vorona. Aleksandra was treated to dinner, sex and a comfy bed to wake up in. But then she left. The next Thursday, they met again at the same spot. And they did it again. Again the next Thursday, each time a bit more personal, a bit more aggressive and controlling until day rolled around and Aleksandra left again.
One of those times, Nikita came around to paint her in the midst of January. A little dandelion against the ferocity of cold. Light surrounded by shadows. The dilapidated but homey church, matched with that of brick modernity, steel skeleton buildings and dancing smog in the swallowing firmaments, eating the stars and moon until the sun broke it up. During this time, they came to connect and know each other. Aleksandra was made to revere Nikita as this goddess of aesthetics. The control she ceded became greater, unequal on so many levels. She felt happier. Vorona’s menacing eyes were scarier. Her jewellery shined brighter with each passing day. Everything about Nikita just seemed larger than life to her. She noticed Nikita’s change in attitude as well, who often looked away and bit the corner of her mouth to stop smiling at times. More bashful. Even a sense of humour which was once devoid. But everytime she asked something a bit too personal, Aleksandra was scolded. Next day, maybe next week, the answer was often ceded. It was a game. They talked about the future a lot, whatever little semblance Aleksandra had, contrasted with Nikita’s perfect picture. Often it devolved into fantasies. What if they ruled the world? What if they were the most important people? And what is one flavour of sponge you’d find most tasty? The usual. But most striking was the idea of Aleksandra finally being able to take her street performance to real stages. Could she? Would she? That was often unsaid.
By the time of spring - Nikita moved on and returned to Russia, leaving Aleksandra with the best of luck. They spoke vaguely over text, and Aleksandra thought they were finished there. What she found was an obsession with this woman, and spent all year saving to surprise Nikita next Winter. When these plans became known, she received mail addressed to “Winter’s Songbird” and opened it to find a dress and a letter with a heart. Aleksandra chose not to open that letter, and instead allowed her imagination to overpower any conceivable body of text. They met again in Yekaterinburg at a party, sharing a dance, dinner and intimacy. The next morning, she didn’t need to leave. From now on, she was Nikita’s dedicated muse. Her Winter Songbird underneath the sun.
It was that Winter Songbird that got to play before so-called real crowds. Winter played her heart out to suit Nikita’s aesthetic and receive all the attention that came after. They were always at a metaphorical arm’s length, and Winter always followed close behind Nikita’s choices, who still played with other muses from time to time, so Winter joined. She learned English from Nikita, who read her books and poems, as well as her new manner of dress. There was no longer a need to care for herself, all essentials and pleasures were provided. She hardly needed to ask. It was all there as naturally as the sun provided warmth. Never did she feel so happy.
But soon she hit a slump in the last song to fill an album. It was to be a gift in a grand marriage proposal. But, she couldn't muster that last scrap of magic. She tried many things from walks to listening to other artists, to more exotic things like yoga, talking to herself and doing other activities. Then she looked to her Sun and found she was in love with wrestling. That was enough for Winter to pursue and ask to be trained, and naturally, her Sun provided. She had a lot to overcome, and trained vigorously to find her rhythm and now seeks to prove that in LAW, hoping these wrestlers can offer that spark of inspiration.