Name: Natalie Vodianova
Gender: Female
Age: 67
Apparent Age: 21
Place of Birth: Hussenbach, Russia
Species: Vampire.
Coven: Nephim
Appearance: Miss Natalie Vodianova currently stands at 5'7 and will always stand that height. For a petite woman of her size, she is a startling 130 pounds, most of it consists of muscle, her body built very athletic and lean. Her eyes are a rich brown, dark and defined and you can typically find her staring. Around her eyes is normally a ring of black makeup and thick dark lashes, stark through her very pale complexion. Her skin is not ghostly white, but an ivory color, even after she feeds. Her bone structure is smooth, she doesn't have protruding features, and they’re all very flat to her body, including her nose, lips, forehead, her breast and even her bottom. She isn't exactly the curviest woman you will see, but still has depth in her being. Her hair stops just along her jaw, consisting of large curls that range from deep chocolate brown to a light caramel. She has tattoos, one between her breasts that's a small black cross, almost like a stain if seen from a bent down view. Another is stationed in the middle of her lower back, just above where her bottom begins and her back ends, the word Pakim which in English means Warrior
Attire: A red cocktail dress or two never hurt someone. Of course she only goes to drastic measures of showing off her body when she hasn't fed for a few days and is beginning to become antsy in her own skin. Normally [walking the nights] she wears jeans, not so low that her ass hangs out, but just enough to wear if she stretched or bent over that the tattoo of her lower spine would show. Her shirts vary constantly, though normally she wears a long sleeve black shirt, always playing with the ends of the sleeves in habit. They have a V neck, so if she did happen to bend over a glimpse of the black cross stamped into her chest would be visible. Other times she may dress down in a tank top and hole ridden jeans, or dress herself up in a classy red or blue dress. Her wardrobe constantly changes.
History: Nights were always long is Russia. And it so happened that the she was born was a slow one. When the clock struck midnight the dong was shrouded by Amelia's screams. Her mother Amelia had finally given birth to the fair skinned baby; Natalie. Everyone in her village was so relieved, for Natalie was one month over due and born with the cord around her neck. Her mother was a very humble and noble woman, but her father was not so lucky. He was sick before her first birthday with Pneumonia, and because in their little village they didn't have top of the rank medical care, he wasn't treated in time, and passed away three days before she would celebrate one year of life. Currently, there was a man named Joseph Stalin leading the Soviet Union. Her country had turned into a communist one, and with him as head dictator there wasn’t much hope for the others of her small village. But Amelia had an ace up her sleeve. John, Natalie’s father, Had been apart of the government, he worked as an advisor to the leaders of Russia as they came an went, here’s to say he wasn’t that great at his job if the power kept switching. But Since his passing, Stalin seemed too blindly, or willingly misses taxing their village as he took his rounds. Natalie was 6 when she first heard of her mother screaming at a government official that came to her door and slamming it in his face. She thought not how this would affect her later in life, but the ties that kept her safe with the government were cut and she was just as big as target as anyone else. Natalie would curl up next to her mother as their home was taken from them, and they rested in the hay in a neighbor’s barn, and her mother would tell her that tomorrow night, they would be sleeping in warm beds with full tummies.
Their homelessness lasted for 3 months, until Amelia met a man named Aster. He was a plump man handing out money by the handfuls to the merchants in the village. Amelia used as much charm as she could muster to swoon him into taking her home. Natalie sat up in the hay, staring at the door for her mother, wondering where she had been and why she hadn’t come back for her. When finally she couldn’t wait any longer, Natalie fell to the side in a clump of hay, and drifted into a weary sleep. She woke, what felt only ten minutes later, to her mother rushing in, a fine lavish coat around her shoulders as she picked Natalie up in her arms and said they would finally have a home. They lived with Aster for several years. He was loud, obnoxious, and abusive. Natalie hated him. Each year she grew he became more and more lethargic and irritating. Amelia was pregnant with this mans child and Natalie promised herself she would hate this baby. Hate it as though it were the object of hate itself. His Name was Cole, he was born when Natalie was 13. Since her mother was exhausted from the birth, Natalie was her mistress, and took care of the baby boy. There were many instances when she would be bathing the child, how tempting it was to just push the babies head under the water and call it a mistake. But Aster was so proud of his baby boy, booming of how he would continue the family name. Her disgust for the child grew even as Natalie grew. When the infant became a child, it was a time of reckoning. Natalie was 18 now. She was so much older but why was she so jealous of the little child? He blew out his candles and laughed with delight, running to Natalie and clinging to her legs, burying his head in her lap. Her fingers twitched as Amelia and Aster smiled, awing the adorable child. He picked up his head, his chin covered with drool and slobber. Her eyes widened as a shrill scream broke her throat. He had ruined her new dress with his disgusting body fluids. Natalie slammed her hand on the table, grabbing the fork that laid across her plate and plunging it into the child’s mouth, piercing the back of his mouth, watching as he gagged on the metal utensil. Aster screamed with rage and flung his hand across Natalie’s face, though Amelia yelled for him to stop, grabbing his hand and pulling him off her. Natalie was kneeling on the floor, frowning as her face swelled and stung. She heard fragments of their shouting about her, but remained silent, glaring at the floor until she felt a hand pull her up. It was a much softer hand, it was her mothers. Aster had pulled from Cole’s mouth, blood spilling out the side of his mouth, tears welled in his eyes as all the little thing could do was cry. It was pathetic, she could have killed when no-one was looking. Natalie had spared the cursed things life, but only for so long. Natalie and Amelia left Aster and Cole, the child living with his father and only his father. Though they had left, they weren’t out for long until her mother was up to her old ways and charmed her way back into the marriage of another man, but this one was different.
His name was Daimhin. He was respectable, he was suave and intelligent. Natalie admired him as a father more then the man she grew up knowing as one. They spent many hours talking about everything; the government, her childhood, anything that he took interest in. She learned about him as well. How he had traveled to many places, a wealthy aristocrat who had never settled down until he met Amelia. Natalie smiled a lot more with him around. They lived with him until Natalie was about 21, a ripe age for a young woman. Everything seemed to be going right lately. The communism in Russia was diminishing slowly, her mother was a lot happier, she was a lot happier, and that winter seemed like it would be a white one. She spent her birthday outside, roaming the streets of her Village slowly; admiring how just a touch of the powdery white could make everything so much more beautiful then before. She had arrived home to a birthday cake and 21 candles. She sat down at the table with her mother and her father, and blew them out with a grin on her face. It had become dark, and she lit her room with candles, enjoying the light of the fire instead of the light of a lamp. Daimhin sauntered into her room and sat down next to her on her bed, beginning to explain how even though he only knew her for a few years, he had watched her grow from a sulking angry girl to a happy and pleasant woman. His hand stroked her cheek and she smiled as he touched her, only pausing as she brought a small silver cross around her neck, and tying it beneath her long dark hair. He stared into her eyes, though something seemed different. He was incredibly pale, more so then she remembered. His eyes were a dangerous hue of burgundy that seemed to flicker hungrily down her frame. Natalie swallowed, and looked away, but he gripped her and pulled her into him. “I want to make you my bride.” He hissed. Her eyes widened as she gripped her tighter, her mouth parting just enough to ask about her mother. In a sense, she supposed that he and Amelia were only bonded by marriage. He had a different bondage in mind. It had only seemed moments before he tore off her clothing and had her on her back, staring up with large eyes. There was a dark smile lining his features as he towered over her, gripping her to him as he forced himself inside of her. Her screams were hid inconveniently by the high pitch that made them airy, his mouth to her throat and piercing into the fragile skin. Her hair was covered in her own blood. When he finally subsided from keeping her skill while he thrusted himself inside of her, he pulled from her body and leaned over her, gripping the knife from the table and slitting his strong wrist, a line of blood pooling over the small slash and collecting at the end of his hand. He lowered his wrist to her lips, the stream of blood dropping into her mouth and filling it with a thick red liquid. She swallowed and winced, the taste like metal only worse. It was then she began to writhe, her body constricting violently as everything began to die inside. She screamed loudly though he brought her close to him, trying to keep her still as the adjustment took place. She breathed out loudly and whined a little, her heart thudding slower and slower, though it beat harder and harder against her rapid moving chest. When finally she died her eyes flickered up to him wearily, lined with tears as he smiled and purred. “Now we can be together forever, you will be forever young my little Nephim..” After he spoke she fought from his arms and screamed her plea, how she didn’t want to be with him, how he took her life from her. She had grabbed her dress and ran out the door, all but falling to her knees immediately as her feet hit the snow. She had expected the snow to be cold, but instead she felt nothing. No warmth and no cold, only the soft grainy feel of the ice crystals that collected on the ground. Natalie couldn’t live there anymore, she couldn’t live there while she knew how she betrayed her mother, how much dishonor she had. Natalie found a knife and cut her hair to where the blood of her neck seeped, her hair tickling her chin as her stained locks fell to the ground, leaving her neck bear.
So Natalie left. She would never see her mother again, and as for Daimhin, she strictly told him not to follow her, or she would kill him at any measure she took. Though she always had one eye out and over her shoulder, just looking for him to see if he had followed. Over a course of years she traveled from Russia to Canada, living off the only thing she would really ever need, blood. It was a necessity, she soon found out. The word “Nephim” caught her interest and she kept a lookout for hearing it again. When she reached a City of Demaitre, her ears heard the word more and more. She had eventually followed what leads she had, and found of Nephim was a vampire coven, and there were others in her family. She was eased by this thought, and lived in the city dormant to any speculation. She got a job at a bar, and a shitty run down apartment, just enough for her to live in safely. Natalie has never turned another, though she has killed in the heat of bloodlust many times. Something in her is beginning to give up on the good there once was and wants to embrace a murderous lifestyle. After years of walking the line; seeing and hearing on the news about Russia, witnessing all the changes in current humanity, she met a man named Joey Moretti, who she befriended quickly and has known for at least a year to the present day. They talk over coffee regularly, and learn about each others past as much as they can, though Natalie has edited her history a bit for his sake and hers..
Well first off you have a few grammatical errors; that you should probably proofread over. Secondly; well I’m unsure about your character’s childhood, if only because if she’s 67 years old, that means that she was born in 1940 and by that time being wealthy and well to do in Russia was a bit of an accomplishment. Joseph Stalin was head of the communist Soviet Union and to say the least the government was lining their pockets with the money of just such people as Amelia Vodianova.
That’s not to say it couldn’t happen, I just think I need more convincing. Also considering she grew up in WWII era Russia; well yeah I think I’d like a little bit of historical interaction with your character. Did the war and the times hinder her in anyway? How did she relate to her homeland? What does she think about it’s changes? I’m not trying to be a bother, I’m just thinking organically about your character and I’m just wanting a bit more background and history.
Also a bit more about her “step father’s” motivations in turning her into a vampire; why?
Just a bit more and you'll be accepted in no time. :heh:
