PETROVA, Matahari Anja

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...basics*

name...

[/b][/size] Matahari Anja Petrova
nickname...[/b][/size] Mata. Don't call her Matahari--it'll cause her to roll her eyes. Mata is just fine. But she has a variety of names she uses for...different things.
age...[/b][/size] Nineteen
gender...[/b][/size] Female
grade...[/b][/size] School is for suckahs.
occupation...[/b][/size] Work is also for suckahs. She squats, mooches, and couch-surfs when she's not at Lost Boy Housing.
hometown...[/b][/size] Skiatook, Oaklahoma
sexuality...[/b][/size] Bisexual with a high preference for those with ladybits.
personification...[/b][/size] The Wolf from The Boy Who Cried Wolf
status...[/b][/size] Awake
face claim...[/b][/size] Ksenia Solo[/blockquote]

...appearance*

physical...

[/b][/size] Well. When it comes to hair--it tends to vary. She's a fan of the wigs, having one for most occasions. Especially when she's out mooching...or scheming her way into dinner. Or just when she wants it. But her normal hair is thick, dyed black, and cut straight across the bangs. It's often sleek and straight, and it's not uncommon to find streaks of color clipped in.

Due to her...connection with her spirit, her eyes have changed quite a bit from their natural brown. They are a pale, light blue that's only enhanced by the darkness of her hair and the eyeliner that frames her eyes. From a distance, it's a bit strange because her eyes appear to be just black pupils, but upon further inspection one will see that they are that light blue. Her eyes also tend to have a predatory look to them, always watching, waiting. She's able to hold her stare for quite sometime without blinking.

She's a small framed girl, roughly only about 5'2", with a thin stature. Mata walks in a strange way, sometomes hunched over with her hips jutting forward just a little and her head tucked down. She's very loose and light with her limbs, moving quite effortlessly. Often you'll see her flailing her arms, or curling up on a table--she's a fan of big gestures, big movements. There's nothing very mousy about this girl.
clothing style...[/b][/size] Dark, obviously. Pink is to be hissed (or growled, in this case) at, bright colors simply don't do unless they are in her hair. Her look can change anywhere from a black tutu over jeans, corsets, or glovelets. She doesn't usually have her legs bare, and she's a fan of long sleeves. Even her pj's consist of pj pants and a thin thermal. However, at the time of the month edges to a particular time, she tends to wear less clothing. You can probably see her walking about in her underoos, or close to it if you drop into Lost Boy's.
defining traits...[/b][/size] It's hard for a little goth girl to not stand out. However, one thing that most people tend to always recall next to her attire are those strange, wolfish eyes.[/blockquote]

...personal info*

personality...

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Cute. Some might think this is a more physical trait, however it also translates to her mannerisms. She speaks in a slightly higher pitch, and has a few childish mannerisms. She'll bounce, go on tangents, and baby-talk on occasion. It's easy to dub her as one of the 'cute' friends, rather than the 'sexy'. Mata has the ability to be mature when she wants to, however it's easier to live every moment like its your last and live in the moment, which results in her being quite free-spirited.

Playful. Mata's a jovial kinda girl. Usually laughs, and cracks jokes. Her expressions and tone changes very quick, and sometimes its hard to tell when she's joking or not. She does her best to get along with everyone, but a snide comment will result in a just as snippy remark. She's a fan of wolf puns which she finds utterly hi-larious. Mata's one of those that you would deem the life of the party. She drinks often, and typically wakes up with a killer hang-over.

Brave. Because she tends to live on the fast-track, she doesn't usually think actions through completely. This can get her in trouble on a few occasions, but she manages to slip out of them. She's quick to jump in to help someone, and even quicker if she has something to gain from it. If she does something out of the good of her heart, she tends to brush it off. It makes her feel a bit soft when she's done something out of kindness without expecting anything in return. It's quite possible to believe she doesn't fear anything, however there is one thing she fears more than anything else in the world....

Clever. Despite the cute factor, and her playfulness, she's actually quite intelligent. Even though she doesn't think things through entirely, her mind processes things faster. If she can't help you, then she knows a guy who knows a guy. And if that doesn't work, you can best believe she's got a plan of action. That will probably get herself into trouble. She's not a book definition of clever, and probably wouldn't be able to ace any tests--however she does have street smarts.

Protective. When Matahari deems you hers, you better believe she's gonna have your back. She's extremely protective over her things, and over her friends. This extends to territory as well. If there's a place she hovers more often than not--that is her territory. It'd be best not to provoke her, or try and intrude on that space or you might get her pointy teeth in your face. This also goes to her beliefs and thoughts. Even if she's in the wrong, she's protective of it--and will fight and deny it as hard as possible.

Lone-wolf. Due to her upbringing, she's always been kinda...outside the loop. She never really fit in with the country-folk of her hometown, and learned to entertain herself. She had a few friends, but they were more of...people she knew, rather than real friends. Because she has nomadic tendancies, going here, going there---she doesn't have any real friends. She's afraid of putting roots down, and messing up bad enough that she won't be able to get away.

Scheme Master. This goes hand in hand with her street smarts. She's conned her way in and out of things, and has on occasion taken investigative jobs in the shady part of town. The people she knows in the big apple tend to be hackers, wannabe artists, and other bohemian types. She tends to be a wolf in sheep's clothing (GEDDIT, GEDDIT?), and manages to get what she needs before shedding her disguise and taking on the next one. She has slight cleptomaniac tendencies, so keep your hand on your wallet.

life until now...[/b][/size]
Two unlikely people had met. Actually, not terribly unlikely. But things happen--an immigrant from the Netherlands, and an immigrant from Russia had by chance met in the lovely city of Tulsa. Two people, so entirely different. So entirely not. Andries van der Waart and Natashka Petrova. Their relationship...was rocky at best. They hardly ever agreed on things. Andries wanted to live a lavish life in the heart of the city with all the latest and newest and best. Natashka wanted to live simply, like her mother had. Have her own farm surrounded by fresh, clean air and animals.

One thing they both did agree on, was that they were going to keep the baby that Natashka was now carrying. But the agreements didn't last long, because yet again--they disagreed. Natashka wanted her daughter's name to contain her own and her mothers--Andries wanted his daughter to have the name of a Dutch icon, a woman of power and richness. Andries won, much to Natashka's dismay, but Mata's middle name was the same as her own mother--so that was something.

The relationship didn't last very long, and after about two years--the couple split. Andries had managed to get far enough by slick words and a clever slight of hand to live the lavish life that he always wanted, and the money from the divorce settlement allowed Natashka to buy the farm she wanted and grow it from the ground up. Both parents shared joint custody, yet young Matahari lived with her mother, occasionally seeing her father.

Matahari's name is much more interesting than the beginning of her life. She was born in a little suburb of Tulsa, and grew up surrounded by cows, horses, and lots of poop. It was just her and her mom, and on occasion her dad. Her dad shaped her in ways that her mother didn't quite approve of, and Matahari became her own person. To be herself, do the things she liked, and not survive to live. "Take what you want, do what you need--live richly." Were her father's words. Becoming her own person meant darker clothes, darker hair and it was a struggle to get her to help with any of the chores.

She was surrounded by bible-thumping manuer shovelers most of her life, and had to deal with this through school as well. She was bullied quite often, so she developed a thick skin and a snide sense of humor. Mata learned quickly that if they realized you were hurt, they would make you hurt even more. Life went on, dull and boring as usual. Cleaning out the chicken coop, cleaning the stables, and feeding the pigs. Boring work that she didn't particularly care for. She enjoyed the trips in to the city, though they were brief and quick--since her mother didn't have any sort of tolerance for the hustle and bustle of the large city of Tulsa.

She started noticing just a year before she turned fourteen that things were...different. Her sense of smell got better during certain times of the month, and when those moments would heighten---she'd have certain gaps in her memory. This continued every month for a year. She'd wake up in her bed nude, with flakes of blood and a dead sheep in the pen. This horrified the young girl enough that she spoke to no one about this issue. But every month, there would be corpses of dead animals in her wake. Chickens, Goats, that one time with a horse, but mostly the sheep.

However, things came into a sudden, horrific clarity when she had a dream. A dream where she was running on all fours, chasing a particular lamb that had a limp. She remembered biting into its throat, and feeling the rush of the salty, hot blood in her mouth. The tearing sensation of ripping through the meat. At first, she assumed it was a dream. But each time it simply got stronger...and stronger, and stronger.

As absurd as it seemed, she was extremely aware that she was not entirely human. Since she couldn't remember being scratched or bitten by a wolf, a sudden thought rang through her head. It took days in the library, until she found the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. When she found this story in the children's section, there was a sudden familiarity that overtook her. A connection that she hadn't had before. Something that felt all too real.

This frightened her enough that at age sixteen, she fled from home, leaving a single note behind.

I'm okay. Don't look for me.
-Matahari

She went to the first place she could think of--New York. With it's big bustle, big buildings--and no damn cow poop.

the present...[/b][/size]
She had found a group of young homeless people that taught her the ways of the street. Do what you needed to survive. They lived above the law, but they had to live below it as well. Take what you need--but don't get caught. Stealing hotdogs became stealing wallets. Snatching dropped cash became slipping somebody's wallet. Snatching somebody's wallet became talking them out of information that she needed.

With her heightened senses, it became easier for Mata to do what she needed to survive. She started taking jobs on occasions--finding out if the husband was cheating, get back some stolen money, snoop around. She became increasingly good at stories, and good at bluffs. Because her name and her appearance always changed, her targets often would cry wolf--though they never saw the girl again.

Mata made a few friends along the way that let her crash on their couch for a few--before turning her back out onto the streets so she could find her own way. Even though she's remained in New York for some time, she's never stayed in one place for very long. Until she found something quite odd.

In one of those special nights when the spirit took over, they both managed to sniff out something a little bizarre. It smelled like a wolf, but not entirely. The smell remained with her when she bathed to get the scent of icky rabbit off of her, and she each time she picked up on the scent, she followed it. It eventually led her to a place called Lost Boy Housing.

Matahari has recently taken residence up, and is currently trying to sniff out the other furry person. Hopefully to make some friends, to have some questions answered--and to answer some in return.

other notes...[/b][/size]
Matahari is fluent in Russian, thanks to mommy dearest. Seriously, if Natashka wants to live the way her mother did, go back to Russia for God's sake.

This is America, land of cheeseburgers and pizza. Deal with it.

Also, she always has a stuffed Lambchop doll with her (You know, from Mr. Roger's Neighborhood?). It's usually in her backpack, and she can't sleep without it. Even when she wolfs out, she carries it around in her mouth.

[/blockquote]

...literature*

title... The Boy Who Cried Wolf
backstory...
So, there's this kid. And he has to watch this sheep, and he's all like, 'Eff this, I need a raise' so he starts saying that there's a wolf and it's gettin' after them tasty lambchops. However whenever someone comes out to investigate, they realize that this kid is lying. This happens a few time until these people get real sick of his shit, and stop caring. But one day, a legit wolf gets wind that this boy's all hung out to dry and snatches up the sheep. The boy tries to call wolf again, but he done fucked up and ain't no one gonna help his lying ass. YOU ARE A STRONG, INDEPENDANT WOLF AND YOU DON'T NEED NO SHEPHARD.

...the roleplayer*

tell us about you...

[/b][/size] ....My name is Olley and I think I have a problem. [/blockquote]

...writing*

writing sample/freestyle...

[/b][/size] No really, I have a problem guys. I propose the idea of like. A character creation A.A. type of deal.[/blockquote]