OOC INFORMATION
Name: Sara
Age: 15
Other charcters you play: None here.

Character Name: Natasha Novak
Character Age: 16
Character Grade: Sophomore, 10th

Character Personality(at least 200 words. Give us something to see about your character): Natasha is one of those kids that if someone handed her some crack she'd think it was powdered sugar and ask for the french toast to go along with it. It's not that she's stupid or oblivious. She's just naive and innocent. Holly would rather study for history and take pictures of ugly things than get high or have sex or get drunk. Consequences are very evident and real to her and she wants to keep a clean slate.

Natasha, however oblivious she is, has a dry and sarcastic sense of humor that is displayed most of the time but other times can be rather low key. She makes friends by making them laugh or just making them confused with lame and corny jokes. She still writes notes to her friends and occasionally draws comics on science notes or something of the likes.
Character History:: Born to two completely average parents who had already had two children, a boy and girl. Her mother died not to long ago and her father was struck with a lot of greif. Luckily, her grandparents were wealthy and created funds for each of their grandchildren to attend prodigious boarding schools. Natasha's been to three already. Her mother

Big Christmas dinners and too much laundry. Natasha will always miss home.

Anything else we should know: Natasha backwards spells ahsatan. Which looks like a battle call and sounds like a tummy ache.

secret word: [edited]

sample rpg: This is long, but eh, from another board.
Natasha, never talk to strangers.
Never take candy that’s unwrapped.
Don’t do drugs.
Don’t you dare touch that wine, Natasha.
You keep your hands to your side.
If you’re not home by midnight, I will find you myself.
Natasha Eliska Novak, if you open your mouth one more time you’ll be home for the holidays.

Natasha Novak was a careful daughter. She rarely dared to step out of line. The lack of trouble making was a direct effect of her mother’s tireless warnings. But now as she walked slowly into the doors of Hogwarts she missed the echoing of her mother’s soft call. Natasha, sweetheart, you’re being ridiculous. She missed the touch of her mother’s warm hands. The lines, so carefully placed by her Creator, which crisscrossed her palms. The artfully clipped fingernails placed on the ends of elegant fingers always covered in a lavender paint. Never misplaced. Never misplaced. Never misplaced. Natasha missed the natural scent of morning dew that followed her mother. Damp, wholesome, collaborated into a sort of floating beauty. She missed the softness of her mother’s robes. Never rough. Never scratchy to the touch. Never. Never. Never. But always. Honey, please, make sure your brother is stays in line. And Natasha always did. And now she always would. She would do the little things. Hug him during the hot summer nights if he cried. If the monsters snagged him in his sleep. If a scary face followed him through the darkness. If he remembered his mother. And he always would. She always would.

Her bag hit her leg as she walked rhythmically up the stairs. Of course she was sad. Her mother was gone. Somehow Natasha knew it wouldn’t be long. Her mother had been sick for so long. The life, the battle, the light, had gone out long ago. It had only been waiting. She had only been waiting. They all had waited. They had all said goodbye. Now, Natasha was content, or as content as she could manage. She was happy to be back a school. Back at her constant. The same faces. The same teachers. The same bed. The same. The same. The same. But all pleasantly different. All combined into something she loved. Considering all of that, she did not mind arriving when the others were in class. Natasha did not care that she was told to have the day off. To relax in the huge castle while others worked. She didn’t even know if she would bother joining them for lunch. Maybe tomorrow. She didn’t feel like answering questions today, no matter how fine she felt about her mother’s death. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Never.

Natasha thoughtfully emptied the contents of her bag back into her trunk and closed the lid. She sprawled across her tightly made bed and traced the wood work for a while thinking of everything. Thinking of nothing. Natasha eventually grew restless and got out of her bed. She padded out of her dorm and down into the Ravenclaw Common Room. Of course, it was empty. She took a long moment to reflect by the fire. She watched the orange light twist and twist against the black back of the fireplace. Burning, burning, and burning. Living. But that held her amusement for only so long. Natasha threw her long reddish hair back and left the common room. Where she was going was unknown. That was okay. She didn’t dare venture back outside where her brave was given the ability to be seen. Where the trees groaned and moaned waiting for the sun. Where everything was dead. No, not dead; waiting. Waiting.

Instead she walked the hallways and peaked into the classroom doors. Some had windows, some doors were open. Most were shut heavily, barricading. Trying, no doubt, to keep the students from thinking about anything outside the professor’s walls. Natasha continued walking, straying far from the dungeons. They were cold. They were dripping. They echoed. They mocked. No, instead she headed up. Up. Up. To heaven. To the towers. To the clouds. And when she reached as far she was able to go she sat. She leaned against the wall and smiled. Thank you, mum. ‘You’re welcome’ the tapping of her fingers against the stone floor said. Natasha pulled her legs against her and was content. Content. Eager. Just fine.




Picture of Character: