kalysta lenore novikov !

[charlotte]

"...Boorish, provincial, and you speak it through your nose." - Princess Kida

NAME: Kalysta Lenore Novikov
NICKNAMES: Kal
AGE: 25
BIRTHDAY: March 26, 1985 (25 years old)
ORIENTATION: Heterosexual
NATIONALITY: Kal is of predominantly Russian heritage, but she was born in England, and grew up in America.
OCCUPATION: Anthropology/archaeology student (double major)
PLAYED BY: Keira Knightley
DISNEY: Princess Kidagakash Nedakh--Atlantis: The Lost Empire
USER GROUP: Royalty

PERSONALITY !

FASCINATED! From a very young age, Kal has been intrigued by the world around her. She enjoys giving or hearing explanations for every little thing, because she wants to know exactly how it works. She absorbs every detail and every technicality as if her life explicitly depends on them, and tends to spew them back out to anybody that'll listen. When she learns something new, her reactions have been known to be rather unpredictable, and usually incredibly hilarious to witness.

PROUD! Kalysta is a proud, confident young woman who doesn't usually care what other people think of her, as long as she knows in her heart she's doing the right thing. She's grateful she's lived her entire life in the lap of luxury, and is very proud of her father for the work he did to elevate himself in society. However, people who don't know Kal generally interpret this as haughtiness or impudence, especially since she has a tendency to brag about her father's accomplishments. But she doesn't feel as though she's bragging, just relaying the facts.

WORRIED! Even though Kalysta doesn't mind what others think of her, she's still a bit of a worrywart. Not about herself or her peers, but about life in general. She occasionally worries herself sick about the most obscure, trivial, or random things. This trait, psychologists have determined, is a manifestation of the guilt and abandonment Kal experienced as a child, as she felt responsible for her mother's departure.

INTELLIGENT! Kalysta possesses an impressive IQ of 166, and has demonstrated her almost infalliable problem-solving skills since she was a little girl. She also has an eidetic memory, which allows her to recall everything she sees with extraordinary accuracy, and a remarkable processing speed, which enables her brain to compute data at a significantly faster rate than that of an average human's. Her sharpness and shrewdness of mind have proven to be great assets throughout her life, and are especially useful in her field of study.

DETERMINED! Kal's fierce resolve and unshakable perseverance are probably the two things that got her out of her depression as a teenager. She will only throw in the towel when she can see she's been beaten, and refuses to quit if there's still a chance at victory. In short, she's stubborn, almost to a fault, although she'd never openly admit it.

QUIRKS: Kal tends to answer or reply to a statement with "Is it not?" or "Are you sure?" She thinks it rather dignified, but it usually comes off as arrogant or naive.

LIKES: Reading, swimming, hiking, rock climbing, food, men (the intellecutal type), liveliness, sunny days, chocolate, her career, the unknown
DISLIKES: Responsibilities (but she fulfills them to the best of her ability), people who remind her of herself, discrimination, her past, liars, snoring, bad posture (she's a hypocrite), confusion, summer camp (bad memories), the color red

HISTORY !

Kalysta Novikov is an inheritor.

She was born on March 26, 1985 in London, England to Leonid and Yesfir Novikov. Her mother and father were the children of Russian immigrants, but they, like their daughter, were born in the United Kingdom and spoke with English accents. Leonid was a graduate of Cambridge University and had been the curator of the university's Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology since 1979. By the time Kalysta was born, Leonid was hardly a young man--he was practically wisened, and steadily approaching his sixties. Yesfir, on the other hand, was youthful and vibrant, and no more than thirty years old. Both of them felt ready to start a family, however, and little Kalysta was a welcome addition to the Novikov household. But her father took extra care not to spoil Kal, as he knew it would be easy to do so with an only child. Her mother, on the other hand, took every opportunity to give Kalysta a little extra or a leg up on some things. This, however, marked the beginning of the end of the unity of the Novikov family.

Kalysta was a bright child, and frequently impressed the people around her with her remarkable ability to absorb and process information. Since Leonid was rather well-off, he was able to afford the best education for his daughter. For the first few years of her life, Kal attended the best schools in all of England, and, more often than not, received lots of praise from her instructors. However, when she was seven, she and her father were dealt a heavy blow: her mother, ever the restless, free spirit, felt tied down and confined in her role as the "dutiful housewife," and decided to leave. She'd had enough of her husband's long hours at work, and as much as she loved Kalysta, she'd resigned herself to the fact that she'd never be mature or responsible enough to care for a child. It was on the eve of Kal's birthday that she packed her bags and set off for her parents' home in Scotland, not sure if she'd be brave enough to visit her husband or her daughter ever again. Before she left for good, however, there was one last piece of business she had to attend to: reclaiming some personal property from her daughter. You see, on Kal's previous birthday, Yesfir had given her a priceless family heirloom: a solid gold bracelet inlaid with rubies and sapphires. It had been handed down the family tree for many generations, and Yesfir thought it was time to pass it on to the next generation. Presently, however, as she stared at the beautiful, gleaming object upon her daughter's nightstand, greed overtook her, and she snatched the bracelet, stowing it carefully in her satchel. Yesfir then left Kalysta's bedroom, crossed into the parlor, passed through the foyer, closed the front door behind her, and disappeared into the night.

Leonid no longer had any desire to stay in England. Too many bad memories. He resigned his job as curator, much to his colleagues' disbelief, and moved himself and his daughter across the pond to America, settling in Boston, Massachusetts. Leonid seemed to fit right in with American society, earning a post as curator of the Boston Tea Party Ship & Museum. (If that isn't irony, then I'm sorry. I don't know what is.) Seven-year-old Kalysta, however, now displaced thousands of miles from home, her mother, and the only life she'd ever known, had to start over from scratch. New friends, new schools, new problems, new environment. As a result, Kal grew into a rather rebellious teenager who took many rules and regulations for granted, and began to see authority figures as prison guards instead of friendly guides. She hated the constant feeling of being trapped inside a little box, and having no discernable escape route.

Kalysta eventually grew out of her rebellious teenage years, and matured into a fine--if not brutally blunt and rather haughty--young woman. She, like her father before her, harbored a passionate love for history and the arts. Leonid moved himself and his daughter a second time when the latter was seventeen, this time to northern California. Although Kal didn't welcome the idea of a third home, she was certainly mature enough to handle moving across the country this time around. By 2002, her aging father had retired with a healthy sum of money and benefits, and he had resigned himself to the fact that it was time to "pass the torch," as it were, to the next generation. Sure enough, Kalysta was accepted to Stanford University at the age of nineteen, with a double major in archaeology and anthropology.

Currently, she's halfway through her Ph.D. in archaeology. She hasn't seen or spoken to her mother since she left all those years ago. No one knows what happened to her, or if she's even still alive. Kalysta misses her mother, but she isn't sure she's ready to make amends, or discover what happened to her. She's made Fantasia City her summer home, as she's found many people there who've been through similar ordeals that she has, and made many new friends.

Truthfully, Kalysta Novikov couldn't have inherited anything grander: history.

SAMPLE !

She leaned heavily against the cracked, gray stone of the pillar as a wave of tiredness washed over her. It had to be nearing midnight. How many regulations have I violated now, twenty? Kiara chuckled, a bit more loudly than she had intended, assuming she was the only one out of doors after hours. Since when had school rules ever come into conflict with her intentions? Since when had any rules ever come into conflict with her intentions?

She’d snuck out of the common room a half hour before. It was a fairly simple feat to perform, much less get away with. Kiara hadn’t even bothered using magic to aid her. All those idiots can’t hear over their own snoring, anyhow. The problem was the journey up. Occasionally, one or two faculty members would patrol the labyrinth of corridors late at night, making sure there weren’t any students, regardless of house or year, attempting exactly what Kiara had done for the past week.

Kiara loved the rush of adrenaline she always received after committing a transgression such as that. The sudden increase in heartbeat was her favorite part. She relished it less often, though, since she had been experiencing it more frequently as of late. It didn’t always feel as perfect as she expected, however. Her latenight excursions were becoming less and less enjoyable. Sometimes she would argue with herself, urging herself to stay in bed. Kiara wouldn’t be able to get any sleep, of course. She hadn’t slept regularly in at least two months. It was almost as though she was searching for something. As if something were compelling her to sit in the courtyard and stare at the stars until daybreak. Something she hadn’t found. Each time she thought she’d moved that much closer to finding out what she lacked, or what was amiss with her own mind, she drew a blank. But tonight was destined to be different.

Her memory immediately flashed back to that summer, the summer of 2021, as it had every night since start-of-term. It was Scotland, mid-June, and rainy. Her father, Gregory Goyle, was to host the annual ball that most pureblood families attended each year. To say Kiara was looking forward to it would have been an understatement. It was to be the first time that the Goyles would host their summer estate to the event, at least while Kiara was alive. (The Malfoys hosted it more often that not.) Her cousin wouldn’t stop sending her owls, practically cross-examining her to obtain a copy of the guest list. She was invited, of course, along with around five hundred or so others.

She vividly remembered the day her mother had dragged Kiara and her sister to Diagon Alley for dress shopping. They were held up for four hours browsing all sorts of patterns and materials, at exactly six different boutiques. Kiara had decided on a foot-length, forest green, empire waist gown within the first hour. The evening before the ball was almost as hectic as the ball itself. Pansy, her mother, had unspokenly asserted herself as the overseer of every component of the ball’s preparation, and was rather undecided on a number of things. First it was the place settings, then the music selection, the colors, her hair...

While her mother was busy worrying herself sick, Kiara had effortlessly located the aforementioned guest list. Out of pure curiosity (and minor boredom), she decided to look it over herself, and discovered that it was not ordered alphabetically, much to her delight. She had the notion that she could somehow alter it to exclude anyone who displeased her at Hogwarts. By the time she reached the seventh page, she had already casually removed four names: Atherton, de Leveque, Smith, and Poole. She was just about to turn the page, and continue her surname hunt when something at the bottom of the page caught her eye. A name had been scribbled in ink. It looked like her father’s sloppy handwriting, and obviously last-minute, as though it’d slipped everyone’s minds. Fancy Dad forgetting to add someone important. It took Kiara a few seconds to decipher the otherwise illegible chicken scratch. When she had, both her eyebrows instantly shot up. Darcy, Othello, it read.

Over a quarter of the invited families arrived at the Goyle estate ahead of schedule, sending Pansy into a frenzy of massive proportions. She had sent Kiara back to her suite, reminding her to return in the following hour to greet the on-time guests.

The hour passed quickly, and Kiara promptly returned to the main entrance to receive everyone. Her hair was swept behind her ears and fastened at the back, while her bangs were added into the bulk of her dark brown locks, which disguised them flawlessly. She boasted a pair of elaborate, silver earrings given to her by her grandmother, and a silver necklace appropriately shaped like a snake. Several people appeared to find it hard to take their eyes off the sixteen-year-old.

As the guests filed in, Kiara spotted Othello Darcy in the procession–after all, he was pretty hard to miss. She nodded and smiled, as she had done with every other person, but the difference was that her eyes trailed after him.

Dinner was a bit uncomfortable, to say the least. Her father Gregory headed one end of the table, and a larger end of the conversation. Kiara mentally rolled her eyes in his general direction throughout the meal. Fortunately, someone had the presence of mind to change the subject towards the end of the fourth course.

The main event had of course been the ball, and what an extravaganza it was. Despite her mother’s sour mood, Pansy had remarkably outdone herself. Everything was as close to perfect as Kiara had seen in her life. She danced for half the night, chatting and enjoying herself, all while finding time to lapse into her old habit of watching, or rather, observing people.

After a particularly long and tiring waltz, Kiara had exited the ballroom in search of more interesting pursuits. But not before swiping one of her father’s bottles of fine wine. She knew exactly where he stashed it–he wasn’t a very complex man to begin with. She eased it open, and began to pour the alcohol down her throat. And after she’d downed an eighth of the bottle, Kiara once again located Othello Darcy–whom she knew better as the Hogwarts potions master. She didn’t have a clue as to what possessed her to talk with him, alas she did.

She gave him a tour of the estate, highlighting everything from the endless rooms to the artifacts on display to the paintings of Goyle ancestors to her mother’s choice of drapery. It gave her something to do. And as she spoke to him, she began to think...

Kiara’s room was located on the third floor of the estate, past three spare rooms and a study. She discreetly entered the study and retrieved two more bottles of wine. Her father had obviously been there recently.

She’d ended up getting him drunk. She had gotten her potions professor drunk in her room, and quite frankly she didn’t give a damn. They continued to talk for a while longer, one thing led to another, and...

Kiara did not regret it. It was the best feeling she had ever experienced in the entirety of her existence. Truth be told, she hadn’t wanted it to end there. She was deeply infatuated with the professor, and from that night on, she vowed to continue her pursuit of him. Even if he couldn’t exactly remember anything.

She was beginning to contemplate returning to the Slytherin common room and attempting to get some shut-eye when she paused, peeking out from behind the stone pillar. And there, on bench, was Othello.

He doesn’t remember, Kiara told herself. The only thing you’ll get out of this is a detention. But her emotions got the better of her.

She broke cover, and descended the short steps leading into the main courtyard, headed straight for Professor Darcy. She slowed her rapid pace as she neared the bench, shivering slightly as she adjusted herself to the cold air. ”Hello,” she began, half-expecting to be interrupted mid-sentence. ”May I sit down, Professor?”

ABOUT YOU!

OHHAITHUR, I'M CHARLOTTE AND I'M A PRETTY RETICENT PERSON. I'M SIXTEEN, BUT DON'T FRET YO, I THINK THIS PLACE IS AMAZING. I'M SO GLAD I FOUND IT THROUGH PROBOARDS SUPPORT. OH, AND JUST SO YOU KNOW, MY FAVORITE DISNEY MOVIE IS I HAVE ABOUT THIRTY DIFFERENT FAVORITES, AND I DON'T THINK LISTING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM WOULD BE SUCH A GOOD IDEA.

[lock]