The Identification

Name: Anika (Nika) Kireyeva
Age: 24
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Sexual Kinks: Anika likes to pursue, but prefers her partners more dominant in bed.
Occupation: By day she is a dance instructor, on weekends and special events/occasions she dances as Dinah at The Velvet Pearl.

Broken Dall

Hair: Blonde Eyes: Blue
Height: 5'8" Weight: 121 lbs

Physical Description:
Standing tall, Anika has the light and delicate form of a dancer. Long legs, an elegant torso, and a frame of lean muscle. Her blonde hair is offset by light skin and bright blue eyes, often rimmed in heavy kohl and mascara. When not working, she is often seen in designer clothes and shoes. Her wardrobe reflects her vanity, a bit of fur, a lot of fashion, and a dash of tease no matter where she goes.

Face Claim: Taylor Momsen

Family:
Father: Deceased
Mother: Emily Kireyeva [Deceased]
Sister: Victoria Williams [31] BiL: Jeremy Williams [35]

The Emotive

Personality:

Nika is trouble with a capital 'T'. She's materialistic, vain, and overconfident. She likes thrill: fast cars, fast men, and enjoys being spoilt. The world is her buffet, and the tastes are a pleasure to be enjoyed. This makes her flighty and elusive, the chase and hunt are just as much fun as the catch.

On the flip side, this doesn't mean she's heartless. She would walk on hot embers if it made those closest to her happy. When dealing with Trixie, traits like loyalty, compassion, and genuine charity come to the surface.

Likes: Expensive clothes, being the center of attention, and thunderstorms
Dislikes: Chores, fast food, and bubbly personalities


The Report Card

Special Skills/Abilities:
Look at ME: Something about her is magnetic. It draws the eye. A flashy something of
 je ne sais quoi.

Personal Goals/Secrets:
Something in Anika is broken.

A deep and old wound that she never let heal. Bittersweet, painful, and she loves it. It has a name and a handsome face. Is an obsession when the nights are long and cold. Perhaps it is not true emotion, but it is the closest thing she lets herself get to. Part of that agony she wants to roll in, to be hurt, to do the hurting.

It was her first awakening, the first quickening of her breath, and the first beat of a dead heart. Illusion is a matter of perception and reality is that she wants it. She will do what she needs to get it.


Nika's tale is one of middle-class, middle-road boredom. Safe parents, safe home, safe life. A beautiful child, she was often given what she wanted and learned at a young age that wide eyes and an innocent 'please' went far. She was a golden child. Beautiful, thoughtful, and quick to smile. Enrolled in dance when she was four, Nika was an achievement sought purely by the drive of her mother's attempt to keep up with her peers. Nika's early youth was ballet, dressed in hand-sewn custom costumes.

As the other girls eventually dropped out to pursue other (less painful) hobbies, the dancing stuck. She loved it. The movement, the control over her own body. It became her life and pulled her mother into a world of recitals and long hours of practice. Her natural grace, partnered with her passion, drew the notice of several dance academies. Life was stretched before her, fruit ripened and ready to take.

Then the house of cards came tumbling down.

It was an important night. Only a few dancers were chosen to attend the New York Theatre Ballet School, and it was a practical prerequisite to moving on to a professional career with the New York Theatre Ballet. There was a representative in attendance, this was the first of many auditions. Rushing through the rain and wet streets, the conditions were dangerous, but Nika's last-minute nerves had caused them to be late. Unfortunately, the driver that ran the red light must have been in the same position. Their car caved in, her mother dying on impact. When the twisted debris was done, the vehicle had managed to flip over four and a half times. Her father was life-flighted but passed en route. Nika's side of the car had been crushed, taking her right leg with it. A few more inches and she would have joined her parents.

In one fell swoop, her life and her ballet career were over.


It took time, and four pins in her right ankle, for the bones to heal again. Longer for her to walk. Through it all, her sister was there. Standing beside her, forcing her to move when it hurt too much. Eventually, though, walking became easier. Slowly, she was able to dance, but never like she had before.

Even though she survived physically, she had not survived the mental war. Guilt plagued her steps. If she hadn't needed her Mom to talk to her through the bathroom door to coax her out. If she had sat in the right spot, she would not be rewarded for living when others were dead. Her sister didn't deserve to lose her parents because of Nika. That pain hurt.

Eventually, she graduated, went to community college, and did all of the things a young woman does. Each pressing push was her sister, torn between building her own life and becoming both mother and father. But none of these things made Nika happy. She only withdrew more, doped up on antidepressants and weekly therapy sessions. Her world was a hollow shell of what could have been and never would be. The smiles were gone, the laughter. Her sister stood beside her, through it all, trying her best to bring Nika back to the world.

Victoria always got her way in the end. She pushed Anika into a hip-hop class, giving her something to focus her energy on. At first, it was just movements. Exercise and energy.

Then she met Conner. Bad news if there ever was one. He came into her life like a whirlwind, promised her a life of happiness, then disappeared like smoke in the night taking the last shred of her innocence with it.

But, for all of the new sort of pain, it was heat and fire. It forced her to feel again and to return to the living world. Her first step back through the looking glass. Business took off, she moved from pupil to teacher at the dance studio, and fate pushed her in the ironic direction of the underground world. Two years of sultry nights at the Dollhouse and Nika's monster was birthed. It grew, fangs and claws and silky promise. Power forged from tragedy and sexuality. Nika could be whatever she wanted. So she danced. She teased. And one by one, she knocked things off the shelf to watch them shatter, her grin growing ever wider.


There was power in sensuality. The girl that walked into that stage was not the same girl that walked off. The experience had awoken the exhibitionist inside her, bleeding into her personality with swift completion.

As with most secrets, Nika's was eventually discovered. Two years of sneaking away on weekends, and Victoria followed her out. Seeing her up on stage, Victoria gave her two options: stop dancing, or lose her from her life.

But Anika was addicted to the money and the attention. Stepping away from Victoria's world, she fully embraced the darkness. She created Dinah, her persona on stage. Eventually, she left that small stage and the even smaller tips of the Dollhouse, and found her way to the Velvet Pearl.



Songs List:

https://youtu.be/sjSG6z_13-Q

      https://youtu.be/GurkREc-q4I