Full-length view, the entire figure visible from head to feet, standing upright, centered — a stern elderly Russian dormitory concierge ("babka-vakhtyorsha") in her late sixties, short and stocky, sturdy build with a rounded belly and heavy shoulders. Deeply wrinkled sour face, pursed thin lips locked in a scowl, small suspicious grey eyes behind cheap plastic glasses on a beaded cord, tightly permed steel-grey hair under a knotted floral headscarf. She wears a faded quilted housecoat over a shapeless grey cardigan, a floral apron, thick brown wool tights and worn felt slippers. Both gnarled hands grip a battered wet mop with a grey stringy head, held like a weapon across her body. She stands in a dim grimy dormitory corridor with peeling green-painted walls, glaring furiously straight ahead, chin jutted, disapproving and territorial. No aura, no text.
