Liliya "Lilya" Starkova durmstrang

Appearance: Vanity graces her, with a touch of perfect femininity and an edge of allusive allure. True, angelic in her sculpting, ivory-skinned and fair-featured, the flaxen-haired, blue-eyed Liliya looks like any other Slavic doll in the making. The simple difference is whereas others wear stares and aloofness, she bears her teeth and smiles.

Face - Claim: Lea Seydoux.

Personality: A dreamer, a sentimentalist, and a romantic, Liliya feels passionately. Nothing and everything all at once, she has the capacity to hate with every fibre of her being, yet to love with every shred of her heart. Painfully loyal, yet strikingly lonely; amiably socialable, yet aloofly alone; lovingly gentle, yet courageously calloused — she walks as a paradox. A warrior, a lover, who waits for galaxies and best friends. But what is a universe without multitudes, and what is a girl who is not the universe?

(Will expand on later)

History: Starkov had become a name you inherit, not one you were born into.

Liliya, like all her brothers and sisters, once bore a different last name. May it be Karenina or Vasiliev, all would be united under the collected patronymic Ivanovich or -novna. From the first day you step under the Starkov banners, or shoot your first arrow from a Starkov bow, there is no return to the families that once left you.

It was under the care of the Starkovs that for the first time, she was lovingly known as “Lilya”. But how did she come to be under the guardianship of one of Russia’s most influential shipping families, and who was she before she wore this silvery mask?

February 29th, 2012 — a rare birthdate for an even rarer girl — Liliya’s first home was St. Petersburg, Russia. Born into a family where love was conditional at best, lacking at worst, the only girl, youngest child, and black sheep was treated with disrespect and indifference. Without a father’s care or a mother’s concern, she grew up for the first eight years of her life in a household that raised brows and questions.

Eventually, questions grew to caution, and caution to action. Domestic use of Dark Magic broke out in a flurry of events, and after long, hard battles, the law could no longer turn a blind eye to their happenings. After legalities, lawyers, and court case after court case, her birth parents failed to keep Liliya’s custody, and she was liberated from their mistreatment.

But she was also plunged into the hells of the foster system. Bouncing from one family to another, each left a particularly sour taste in her mouth, and rarely did she feel the true warmth of a Sunday roast or a homemade dinner. Throughout it all, though, she never lost hope for a better world and a better life.

It was the spring of 2025 that was a life-changing era. Liliya was reluctant to go, all the way in the distant oblast of Kaliningrad and its port city, to a couple struggling with infertility. But soon, she learnt the Starkovs offered something none of the other families did: opportunity. Privilege, connections, and a wealth of possibilities at her disposal, Liliya soon fell in love with their way of life. She busied herself within their business and stepping up into positions of further power. Her efforts paid off. Summer of 2025, the adoption process worked in her favour, and the Starkov family welcomed yet another member into their ranks.

The patriarch and matriarch of the Starkov line, Ivan and Oliwia, delved themselves into the Dark Arts, yet they never failed to be kind. A paradox that shaped a juxtaposition of personalities, Liliya grew to be ruthless, yet with a deep caring for the world.

Her education having been disrupted with the constant moving of households, she mainly attended smaller schools scattered across her various foster homes in Russia. Becoming a member of the Starkov household, they insisted she be educated at the school where many Starkov alumni graduated: Durmstrang academy. And hence, in the autumn of 2025, her journey began.

First Instance of Magic:Winter of 2021. Liliya had just turned nine years old with no celebration, no birthday cake, no candles. She had come running from her room only to find nothing awaiting her. Feeling the tears well to her eyes, voices rose to chastise her for her disruption, and she raced back to her room. There, for the first time, she picked up a pair of scissors, and held them to her hair. The first few strands were impossible to cut, as if her own magic disagreed with her impulsive emotions, before relenting to her heart’s crooked desire.