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by muse 10/11/2014, 8:48 am"normal people would go out, you know"
"who on earth said im normal?"
"who on earth said im normal?"
Name: Katarina Elisa Bates
Nickname: Katka, or Kathra
Gender: Katka is a girl
Mortal Parent: A man named Metodej Bates, with a personality as strange as his name seems to Americans. Often times he can be found in the garage, building something or trying out a new invention. He is often covered in scrapes and has several scars from inventions that went badly.
God Parent: Herse/Ersa, the practically unheard of goddess of the morning dew (literally the internet has like two sentences on her).
Date of Birth: A rather cold October 31, in the year 1997.
Place of Birth: She was born in Špindlerův Mlýn, Czech Republic. A small town of about 1300 people, though more come for the skiing.
Last Residence: About six months ago, Katka's father decided that they were going to move to America, specifically Kansas. If you want to get really specific, a small town just outside of Lawrence.
Race/ethnicity: She's Czech, specifically from the Hradec Králové region, near the Polish border.
Accent: Half the time she's speaking Czech, but when she does try to use English it's with a heavy Czech accent.
Skin Tone: She's insanely pale. Like vampire pale.
Eye Color: Katka's eyes are a pale blue, typically referred to as "ice blue" in literature.
Hair Color: Her hair has always been a very light blonde, so light that some of her friends joked it was "blinding". Since moving to America she has dyed the front part blue and purple.
Hair Length: Her hair reaches a little below her shoulders, around two inches past.
Height:She's rather tall, for a girl, and in general. She's just short of 190 cm.
Weight: She's rather underweight, barely weighing 53 kgs.
Body Type: She's tall and thin, much like a stick. Her legs are almost too long for her body, making her look kind of odd.
Appearance: Her nose is small and thin, with a small scar on her chin from a skiing accident the winter before she moved. She also has large black-framed glasses, what are typically referred to as "hipster glasses". She lives in jeans and sweaters, with the occasional science-pun shirt. Her posture could be worse, but it could certainly be better thanks to hunching over her laptop all day. Her face is just a little too round, and her eyes a little too big. Her arms dangle only a few inches above her knees. In general, her limbs are just too long for her body, and everything looks out of proportion because of it.
Weapon:She has a celestial bronze knife with a silver handle. The handle is in the shape of a dragon, accented with blue stones.
Armor: She wears the standard camp issued armor, if she remembers to put any on.
Pet(s): She has no pets at the moment.
Skills/Talents: Katka is particularly good at card games, even the ones that are supposedly "all luck". She has a way of getting out of things, such as her training. She showed up once, and never went again.
Flaws: Her lack of training does leave her rather unprepared, should she have to fight a monster. She's not particularly loud, her opinions getting lost in the crowd, even if they are well thought out and logical. She's also ridiculously clumsy, falling over just about anything you put in front of her. She's also practically blind.
Strengths: She computes things rather well, easily doing what most kids would struggle to work out in her head. As mentioned earlier, she excels in card tricks, and often wins a lot of information out of people by challenging them to a game of cards. She is reasonable, and never lets emotions cloud her judgement.
Weaknesses: That being said, never relying on emotions can cause a great deal of trouble. She often is too logical, hurting people's feelings and generally pushing them away. She doesn't actively seek out new people, so her list of trusted individuals is rather short. She's completely incapable of swinging a sword, and often gets pulled around by it when she tries. If you take off her glasses, she will be practically blind.
Likes: Katka enjoys walks in the late evening, as well as skiing. She also has a particular fondness for climbing trees and almost all sciences. She enjoys sci-fi, books and movies or television shows.
Dislikes: She absolutely hates biology and history. She can't stand running, unless there is a particular destination.
Fears: Katka is terrified of spiders. She also fears abandonment. Oh, did I mention she's absolutely bloody terrified of bridges?
Personality:Think somewhere between Spock and Castiel. She doesn't really get human emotions, but she tries to find logical explanations for everything she feels. She's a bit boring, though she can talk for hours if you get her onto something she really enjoys. She tries to be kind, when she can, and is a little bit on the talkative side around friends. She spends far too much of her time reading up on black holes, or her favourite topic, spaghettification, to be healthy. She's rather indecisive, and when she does make decisions they are entirely logical. Honestly, she seems more like an Athena kid than most Athena kids.
Powers: There's this weird little ring of dew that forms around her feet if she stands on grass too long. It's a bit annoying, honestly.
Social Status: She's kind of a loner, with the whole moving & language issues. She has a few friends, sure, but not too many.
Summer or Year Rounder: Year round, seeing as she'd rather fling herself into the sun before going back to Kansas.
Years at Camp: Not even a year, a measly three months.
Life Before Camp: Katarina was born and raised in her small town in the Czech Republic. Her father spent several years trying to balance a child and working in a research lab, but eventually gave up and moved on. He had been working with robot prototypes and such, so when he left work he kept up the attempts, building his own stuff in their garage. He made a few things every now and then, selling his designs for just enough money to keep the pair living somewhat comfortably. Eventually, however, Metodej decided that the town was simply too small, so he moved them to America. Kansas to be specific. Lawrence to be even more specific. Metodej went back to work on his robots, and Katka got sent off to school. She didn't know much English when she arrived, but knew enough that she could pass as American if she didn't talk much and covered her accent. She also decided it would be best to sort of "Americanize" her name, calling herself Kathra instead. Most of the kids there ignored her, with the exception of one small group of kids, who could easily tell she wasn't from around there. Too pale, too quiet, too smart. She could find solace with a few of the others though, those who would typically be labelled "nerds" and geeks". Which works, because she clearly was. Too interested in science, too good with computers. She didn't really care though, plugging herself into her Muse and her games, and ignoring the outside world. It's a great was to get through school. Also, a few months before they moved, Katka was out sledding on the mountains when she crashed herself into a tree. She broke several ribs and earned a long scar across her chin. After the first year of school ended, she begged her father to let her leave Kansas, go anywhere but Kansas. Eventually, he told her about a camp in New York with some coordinates, which was a little weird, but she was a goddess, without actually mentioning or really knowing what it was for, and she went. Herse had mentioned something about a camp before she left them. She had said simply to "send Katarina there, when she was ready". She didn't know what she was walking into, but she figured it couldn't be worse than Kansas. She bought herself a plane ticket by working a summer job, and got herself to Camp by mid-July.
Role-playing Example:
People always talk about moving like the world will end when you reach your new home. Which, when you think about it, maybe it will. At least, your world will. Your little bubble, with all your friends and your routines, and whatever else you do. It will all end with a move. Especially a cross-continental one.
It's painful really, that last day. The tears, the hugs, the promises to keep in contact. It never happens, of course. Long-distance communication never really works out. At first you promise to write every day, and so many emails are exchanged. But then you forget one day. Then you just don't respond to that one email. Then the emails stop coming. It hurts a little, but by that point you barely know the person anyway. You haven't seen them in so long. The theme park picture you had on your nightstand got pushed away when you cleaned, got replaced by another one, maybe with new friends or at a new theme park. The memories fade too.
Yeah, the first day without your old friends is pretty sad. But honestly, the worst part of moving is the forgetting. Forgetting the colour of your best friend's hair. Forgetting the way they formed that one word, the one you always teased them about.
Looking up from the beat up photograph you found wedged between your dresser and the wall, you try to remember the last time you talked to your best friend. It's hard, so very hard. And that, that is truly sad. The person you once called your best friend, and it's been so long since you talked to them that you can't even remember when it was. You rush off to your laptop, opening your email in hopes that you can contact them. You glance at the clock, it's barely 11 am. Perfect. It'll be just after 5 pm for her. She'll probably be online, doing homework or something. So you type up a quick email. And you wait.
While you're waiting, hoping, for a response, you play a couple games, beat a few newbies in zombies. All the things you normally do. But you're distracted this time. Everyone can see it. They ask you, "Kathra, what's going on with you?" Even the question makes you cringe. Another part of your past you tried to leave behind. Your name. Changing it seemed like a simple thing to do. Why try to struggle with pronunciation problems if you could just use something simpler? And you check your email, again and again. Refresh. Scan. Game. Refresh. Scan. Refresh. The cycle repeats, your hope diminishing with each refresh. And then, all too soon, it' time for lunch. You won't be able to check again until this evening, maybe even tomorrow. The afternoon gives you no free time. You head out to lunch, hopeless and maybe a little angry.
Afterall, what gives them the right to take more that an hour to respond? You only took three months.
Notes: this is kind of an ooc thing but i will insist on writing her second person. sorry.
Last edited by afangirlwithabox on 10/15/2014, 8:29 pm; edited 4 times in total
