Have you see the OVA or read the manga series of Hellsing? Yes. I’ve read the entire manga and have seen OVAs 1-5
Name: Zasha Levkov
Age: 211
Gender: Female
Physical appearance: Zasha is 5’5 1/2" has short dark brown hair that tapers down to the base of her neck. Her bangs hang slightly in the way of her pale green eyes. Her skin is very pale, though this is not unusual of Russians. She appears to be somewhere between twenty five and thirty, with a few slight laugh lines around her mouth and very slight crows feet decorating the corners of her eyes. She wears a great variety of expressions, though her usual expression is one of cold amusement. She’s seen a lot in her years, and it has left her with slight contempt for the world, but she is usually friendly and willing to give advice. She keeps her nails slightly long and unpainted. Her build is slim through the upper body with a narrow chest and wider hips and thighs.
Clothing of choice: She usually wears some sort of nice blouse and slim cut dark wash jeans with sensible shoes, usually black hiking boots, though she sometimes wears high heels with dressier outfits. She occasionally favours t-shirts when she’s feeling more casual. Her left ring finger is adorned with a wide platinum band inlaid with various semi-precious stones in a random design. She sometimes switches the ring to her right hand at random. Often she is seen wearing leather gloves o various colours, always matching her outfit. She is very finicky about making sure her clothes match.
Weaponry of choice: She uses twin pistols armed with blessed silver bullets as well as a fifty caliber BArret M107, also armed with blessed silver bullets as well as regular and silver armour piercing rounds. She only handles her silver ammo when wearing gloves. She also uses silver long knives or daggers from time to time. She must be VERY careful not to cut herself.
Race: Vampire (Category B)
Abilities: Nothing out of the ordinary for a Category B vampire except the fact that she’s faster than most. She’s an excellent shot and her skill with knives is more than adequate. She’s working on her hand to hand skills with Makarov, as right now she finds them unsatisfactory.
Organization: Hellsing Organization
Personality: Zasha has a very wide range of emotions, and displays them prominently, from deep sadness to elation to fury. She tries to keep herself under control, and can take a lot of stress before she snaps, but when she does, it’s bad news. She definitely has a bad temper, but over the long years of her life she’s learned to keep it under wraps for the most part. She tries to never show sadness, because she sees it as a sign of weakness. The only person she allows to see her cry is Makarov Drachev, her long time partner. She tends to be cynical and tries to find some dark amusement in every situation, though she doesn’t always succeed. She has a good sense of humour, especially when it comes to herself. She’s always willing to make a joke at her own expense if it’ll lighten the mood. She tries to be friendly with outsiders, but tends to be guarded with people she doesn’t know well.
Rank: Combat operative
Biography: Zasha’s life was uneventful when she was young, living under the vastly corrupt Tsarist rule. Her father hated the Tsars, passing these views along to her and her two older brothers. Things were very dull, She learned to cook and sew and dance, but she hated all of these things. So she got her brothers to teach her how to read and write, as well as to fight.
By the time the revolutionaries rose up against the Tsars to prevent Nicolas I’s ascension to power, she was a grown woman, and capable of handling herself. Men didn’t like that she acted so headstrong. She was pretty, if not beautiful with her long dark hair and striking pale eyes and attractive figure, but spurned most men. Her father said she would never find a husband, as did her brothers. She was coming home from a tavern with her brothers when the unthinkable happened.
She was drunk; she was willing to admit that. She didn’t even hear the man who came up behind her. He pulled her off to the side and her brothers were so drunk they didn’t notice. She looked into the red eyes of the man and found herself so scared she couldn’t even scream. He looked into her green eyes for a long moment, and then smiled and nodded. “Yes, you will do nicely,” he said.
With that he sunk his teeth into her neck. The pain was terrible. She must have passed out, because when she next woke up, she was lying on a bed in a nicely furnished room. She felt different, that was for certain. The man from before walked into the room. “Oh, you’re awake. Good.” He told her that his name was Ivan and explained what had happened, and what she now was. She was horrified, but when he told her she would never have to go back to her old life of living under the control of her father and brothers, she was soothed. He taught her the ways of the night, and how to fight and behave like a proper vampire.
Suddenly the First World War threatened everything. Zasha demanded that they join the war effort, but Ivan refused. He said she wasn’t ready, and she didn’t dare go against his wishes. They both managed to stay out of the war, though Zasha followed everything closely in the newspapers.
Then came the revolution. They were living in St. Petersburg when it happened, and Zasha was thrilled. Ivan told her not to get too excited, and that things with humans were very volatile. Turned out he was right, as another revolution followed on the heels of the first, establishing communism in Russia. Zasha was pleased with these events. Things were relatively peaceful after that...that is, until the Second World War came around.
Zasha wanted nothing to do with Hitler and his regime. Ivan was glad of this, hoping that she had finally learned to stay out of human’s affairs. The Winter War came and went, and Zasha read about it in the papers, but stayed mostly disinterested. That is, until they were betrayed.
The carnage was awful. Zasha finally had her excuse to get into the thick of things. She convinced Ivan that nothing could happen to either of them. He knew, however, that this was the beginning of the end. They fought, and Zasha grew strong and skilled. In 1943 she met a man named Makarov Drachev. The three of them grew close, particularly Zasha and Makarov. Ivan still thought it was none of their business being involved in the war, and Makarov resented that somewhat. It was that year that Zasha’s life changed forever.
She had thought him infallible and invincible. She wasn’t ready for it when the silver bullet caught Ivan in the chest, piercing his heart. She screamed, rushing to him, but he was already gone. The German soldier was torn to pieces. If pressed, she could still recall the taste of his blood, as well as the blood of his comrades. She destroyed them all, tears spilling from her eyes the whole time. When the battle was done, Makarov comforted her. It was then that they forged a true friendship.
They fought side by side for the rest of the war until they took Berlin. They celebrated together, sharing Makarov’s last cigarette.
Ever since then, they’ve been together, sharing their victories and defeats, drinks and cigarettes, blood and tears. They formed their own little mercenary group and fight together for money, to buy more drinks and cigarettes. The rumors of the Hellsing Organization have drawn them to England, in hopes of finding new work.
RP sample: “Niet,” she said, gazing ahead with an impassive look on her face. “I want to get out of here. I’ve been here my whole life! Don’t you know how boring that gets? Over two hundred years, Makarov. Two hundred! Sure, this country is big, but most of it is frozen wastelands, and I’ve been there, done that. In fact I did that for most of my life. How dull. Niet, I have heard of this place...The Hellsing Organization! They do what we do, fighting vampires and other freaks.” An amused look passed over her face. “Yes, yes...England. I’ve always wanted to go there.” She took a long drag on her cigarette, exhaling the smoke through her nose. “Yes. This would be fun, no? Let’s do it.”
She stood with her back to him, silhouetted against the streetlight. She sighed and brought a cigarette to her lips, lighting it, then taking a long drag, then exhaling the smoke and drawing the cig away from her full lips. “So glad I discovered these things,” she said, almost dully. “They do help with the stress.” She turned to face him slowly, her green eyes glinting in the low light of the London streets. She brought the cigarette back to her lips. “You know you’re going to die, don’t you? That’s why you’re standing there without attacking me. You’re scared.” She laughed coldly at that. “So scared that your little tyrannical reign of this part of town is over...that you’ll never taste sweet virgin blood ever again. You’re but a speck of sand in the never ending ocean that is time. In a few years the people who live here will have forgotten all about you. You’ll be an old wives’ tale, something to haunt the dreams of children.” Her pistol was drawn in a flash as the vampire lunged for her, screaming her demise. She pulled the trigger, scoring an easy headshot. The vampire fell to the ground, very much dead. “He’s done,” she said into her comlink. “Let’s go get paid and get a drink.”
“GRAH!” she yelled, slashing at the regenerator with her knives. She kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into a wall. Swiftly she drew one of her pistols, firing three quick shots into his chest. He slumped to the ground, and she thought the victory hers. She turned to walk out when a silver bullet struck her in the shoulder. She staggered forwards, clutching the wound. “Damnit,” she cursed, turning back around. “Why won’t you die?!” she demanded, dashing forwards to pin him to the wall. He was no match for her strength, being a human. “DIE YOU BASTARD! DIE!” she screamed, wrapping her hands around his throat and squeezing. Three bullets pierced her back and she cried out in pain. “More?!” she growled, looking to see the man standing in the doorway...
Subject: Zasha Levkov