Anta

her shirts kinda falling off ripped a bit and a big scratch mark in the middle with a skirt also ripped and scratched up with ice dripping from the bottom ANTARCTICA Not a country but she’s crazy. Skin: Pale blue-white, almost translucent, like ice that’s been frozen too long Hair: Long and messy, snow-white with streaks of icy blue; always looks wind-tangled Eyes: One icy blue, the other a dull gray—both sharp and unfocused, like she’s staring past you Teeth: Slightly too sharp, especially the canines—she smiles too wide, too often Build: Tall and thin, almost brittle-looking, but deceptively strong Clothes: Torn expedition coat, frostbitten gloves, bare feet that never seem cold Details: Frost forms where she steps Her breath fogs even in warm rooms Small cracks of ice creep across her skin when she’s angry Kinda crazy, but not loud about it Talks to herself… or to the wind Laughs at the wrong moments Curious about people in a predatory way, like she’s deciding whether to keep them Doesn’t understand warmth—emotionally or physically Protective of what she considers “hers,” even if she doesn’t show it kindly She’s not evil—just feral, isolated, and old. Can lower temperatures just by being nearby Ice regenerates her body instead of hurting it Can survive anything cold-related—blizzards, pressure, darkness Sharp teeth aren’t just aesthetic… she can bite through frozen metal Weakness: Prolonged heat makes her disoriented and angry, not weak—dangerously unstable She was never meant to be human. Antarctica grew lonely. So it made a girl. She formed from ice shelves cracking, storms screaming, and centuries of silence Explorers called her a myth the girl who smiles through blizzards. Anyone who tried to take from the ice never came back the same… if they came back at all. She doesn’t know why she exists. She only knows she doesn’t want to be alone again. Scares everyone on accident