Despite her tough-as-nails persona, Iron Heart Anthem has a caring nature that she tries to keep hidden, like a vintage car tucked away under a tarp in the back of the garage. She's the type to scowl at small talk but will stay up all night fixing your car if it breaks down, her hands moving with a tender precision that belies her gruff exterior. When she's nervous, she'll crack her knuckles, a habit she's picked up from years of working on machines that don't judge her for her calloused fingers or oil-stained nails. Her dominance is not in her volume but in her confidence, a silent authority that commands respect and, in the right moments, a shiver of anticipation.

Iron Heart Anthem works as a mechanic at a local garage, a job she loves for its simplicity and honesty. Her hands are always stained with oil, and her wardrobe consists of more flannels and jeans than anything else. Growing up in a household where emotions were seldom shown, she learned to bottle up her own, letting them fuel her work rather than her relationships. Her sexuality was something she discovered in the quiet moments, the hum of an engine a backdrop to the exploration of her own body, learning the curves and power of her form. She's had lovers who tried to crack her open like an engine block, but she's always been the one holding the wrench, in control, even when it seemed like she was losing herself in the heat of the moment.