I come from scientists and atheists and white men who kill God. They make technology high quality, complex, physiological experiments and sacrilege in the name of public good. They taught me everything, just like a daddy should.
NATALINA WAS ALWAYS A MIX OF PLEASANT UNPREDICTABLITY. There was something about that she enjoyed, probably because people were so fucking boring these days. They wanted to be centered around relationships, or defined by a significant other, rather than an actual person, on their own two feet. Nose wrinkled slightly, most at distaste in her own personal corner, rather than anything that was actually happening. However, the inner monologue was enough to distract her from the stitching, which seemed to come in handy, head tilting a little bit when she spoke next. Chin, moving into the nod she gave before the fuck boy adjacent words left her lips. “Is that an excuse to make sure I have to see you again, or?” It was amusing, and aimed for nothing more than to make the other laugh. If anything deserved the small glimpses of happiness, of joy, it was the woman in front of her. Honest smile shifted into a grin, before continuing. “Yeah, yeah, doctor. It feels fine, nowhere near like you just stuck a needle in my forehead or anything. It’s like magic, right on par with the Harry Potterwand or whatever his name is.”
Her expression softened a bit at Maeson’s question, not entirely shocked but still feeling the light, airy feeling in her chest. “Eh,” head nodded side to side, as if there was a real need to think about her response. “Could be. But, you know, I could just give you another doctor’s number?” she chuckled softly, finishing putting her supplies away and getting ready to pitch the rest. “Or, you could just hope for the best and practice some good ol’ radical ignorance by not seeing anyone. It’s up to you,” looking back up, she couldn’t help but smile again at Maeson. “Yeah, yeah, yeah — just don’t go on bragging to your friends about it, alright? Can’t let the wizardry get out to the general public.”
When he wasn’t over at Off The Hook he could be found at Joe and Go with a cup of tea on the table and a book in his hands. It was the only way he could handle being a medic for a gang. That lifestyle even though not as hectic as most was still sometimes hard for him to handle. Once he finished the book, he sighed and put it in his bag again, looking up and noticing someone who looked like they were in a need for a place to sit. “You can join me” he told her and smiled.
Socializing wasn’t something that Natalina sought out, though when she picked up her coffee it felt as though she was just about out of options. The familiar stinging sensation that rattled her back let the woman know that there was no leaving the shop for a few moments, that she was going to have to sit for a little while. However, the business of the establishment was posing an argument. The familiar voice met her ears, and Natalina nodded her head. Accepting that sort of offer was almost foreign to the woman, but the pain was becoming close to unbearable as time ticked by. “May I? You’re too kind,” she teased with a wink. Nat sat down, feeling the beginning of the relief, “what were you reading there?” Even only seeing just the tail end of Luca putting his book away, Natalina was still amazed that there were people in the town capable of peacefully reading.
THERE IS A SMALL PART OF HER that likes to take victory when it is given to her, and just now, it was. There was something sweet, just a touch of the right sentiment, in using the word ‘we’ when referring to hiding. The pair of them are something she doesn’t usually speak to, but it’s there, a momentary softening in expression, the way breath is just a little bit softer before laughing. “Eating dirt, building immunity, same thing, right? The reason we can’t all be bubble boys, aside from that god fucking awful movie.” She pinches the bridge of her nose like remembering it physically pains her before grin paints features in a different light. “The limb situation is questionable but manageable, you know men are such babies when they lose one. You don’t actually need them both.” She reminds her, as if the doctor doesn’t know this, being nodding. “Yeah, do your worst, I’m already thinking of stories that make my dick seem bigger than it is, when people ask what happened.”
“Most of them are babies in general. But, I can imagine they are even more so when they’re missing limbs,” she spoke while cleaning up the mess of medical supplies she’d made. Once she listened to Maeson’s confirmation, she drew in a long breath as brows furrowed with worry. Natalina knew she was more than capable of stitching the wound quickly and with minimal scarring — but the idea of causing Maeson any more discomfort than she already had with cleaning alone wasn’t ideal. Even with the other’s tough and puckish disposition, there was still something about being someone “Okay,” repositioning herself in her chair, getting a better approach on the suturing. “if it hurts... just... please, for the love of god. Just hold still.” First stitch down, then the rest quickly followed as gently as Natalina could manage. She had done sutures countless times in vastly different, more high-stress scenarios. Regardless, it still took a few seconds for her to snap back into reality. Sitting back, Nat admired her own work. “I don’t have any superhero bandages, so this will have to work,” she spoke, carefully placing a band aid over the stitches. “You’ll have to come see me again in... mm, a week. Does it feel alright?”
Adelaide almost spit out her drink when she heard her roommate’s words. Once she finished the sip, however, she burst out laughing. “You know me so well,” she finally spoke, shaking her head with the glimmer of a genuine smile on her face. Very few people saw the softer side of Adelaide, not because she didn’t want them too, but because there were very few people she felt she could completely trust. At her friend’s next statement, she couldn’t help but laugh once more. “Are you calling my tipsy ass a shithead or do you still have another patient at this hour?”
Of course she didn’t mind. After everything the day had brought her: Driftwood, fielding calls from the boss, she was more than happy to just relish in some peace and quiet with her favorite person. “Oh shush, you know I don’t mind.” Adelaide motioned to the other woman as if to say oh please. “Believe me, I’ve dealt with a lot of loud testosterone today. Quiet is welcome.”
“Unfortunately so,” she laughed, still very proud of herself for that comment. Head nodding side-to-side, “mostly you, Ade. Mostly you.” There was still a chance that a patient could end up calling, but that’s what voicemails and night shift workers were for. It wasn’t like Natalina would be much help after already finishing two glasses of wine so quickly.
Natalina shook her head, “you and me both. It’s been.. how many months? And I’ve still not adjusted to the stark difference in patients here and at home.” She had dealt with one enjoyable patient today — the thought of Maeson giving Natalina the momentary idea to check on how the other felt. However, she was still sober enough to sternly remind herself that there would be absolutely no drunk texting. Shoulders lift slightly, “as long as you’re prepared to drag my ass to bed in the next two hours.”
"You’re not...” Natalina let out a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. Head fell back slightly, and she drew in a long, dramatic breath before looking back at Ian. “Yes, in theory, a ghost-hunting career would have great job security. There’s probably always ghosts or just.. coincidental scenarios that produce ghostly events. But who’s calling in the hunters? There’s no financial security.”
Watching the domino effect of one patron’s coffee-spilling causing those surrounding more trouble outside than one could imagine — Natalina found herself just barely getting away from the others, with only the sacrifice of spilling some of her own coffee onto the pavement in the process. Just barely bumping another victim of the coffee catastrophe, she glanced up. “Sorry,” the word left her lips with little to no thought. “I... you know, um... that,” she motioned toward the initiator, “they’ve caused a latte problems.” Eyes flicked back to the other, a weak smile on her lips as she winced slightly, “did I get coffee on you?”
closed starter for @elliottgreyson / @emerysinclair
Five months should have been enough time for Natalina to remember most of the hospital staff. She’d almost had most of their faces down — names were an entirely different story. Gathering some paperwork for a patient of hers, Natalina glanced up to find someone else standing nearby. There was a great chance that she, in fact, knew the individual. However, at this point, it should’ve been known that she was no sort of social butterfly in the building. Even with the risk of potentially offending a coworker, she still flashed a brief smile at the other, “can I help you?”
“Large iced black, please.” Giving her ordered seemed silly sometimes, especially when she knew they had probably put it in when they saw her. The perks of the neighborhood coffee shop regular. Offering a polite smile and handing over her cash, she stepped aside to wait for her order. Checking her phone, she hoped more than anything she wouldn’t get called in on her day off, by anyone. Knowing this town, though, that was probably too much to ask for.
As she waited, eyes trained on her phone, she felt a pair of eyes on her. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
The other woman’s voice caused Natalina to jump slightly, as she had been completely lost in thought. “I — sorry, it’s not.. it’s not you,” she started, chuckling softly. “Guy over there,” she explained briefly, nodding her head at the man across the bar. He sat alone, with at least five different extravagant holiday cocktails in front of him. “Sorry, again,” she laughed, “but, no, I don’t come here all that often. Apparently, though, I should.”
IT WASN’T LIKE SHE WAS GOING TO KEEP SECRETS FROM NAT, which was a reward in and of itself. For whatever reason, the option to actually give her the honesty she deserved always seemed like the right one to take. However, that didn’t mean she had to make it easy, or had to come in gushing about yet another thing for her to worry about. “Yeah, minor. As in everyone is still living after, so therefore it’s no big deal. A little blood is good for you, like kids who need to go out, leave their computers, and eat a little dirt sometime.” She shrugged, as if this made perfect sense, but then again…to her, it did. Hand curled around the arm of the chair to use as an anchor, trying not to echo her wince at the touch, but she was acclimated by now, and thankfully her doctor of choice had a soft touch. “Ah yes, I do love story time. Well, it has a lot to do with the white male ego being entirely out of touch, which is not my fault. That, and someone who doesn’t understand that when I say, if you touch me again I will remove your limbs from your body, I mean it.” Smile that was too sweet offered, as if there was an innocent bone left in her body.
“Everyone’s still living — fantastic,” she half-repeated, head nodding. “I was worried we’d need to find hiding spots.” Reaching back into the kit, she pulled out an anesthetic gel and began gently applying it. “Mhm, just like eating dirt.” Sitting back a bit as she let the medication do its job, Natalina listened along as the other spoke. Brows furrowed as she listened to the story, and she let out a quiet scoff. “What’s the limb situation now? Or is it... should I not have asked?” Eyes flicked up to the clock on her wall, checking to see how much longer she had to wait to avoid as much discomfort as possible. Time ticked on, and it was time for Nat to focus on the next task at hand. No pressure at all for being extra precise and careful, especially not after the other’s Harry Potter reference. Shoulders lifted slightly as Natalina drew in a deep breath, feeling nervous over what was such a mindless task for her. “Ready?”
“Don’t look so surprised,” Natalina spoke with a smile as she continued holding the flower out to the man. “Just take it, you look like you need it after that rush,” she nodded her head toward the customers who had just left the bakery.
“What is it with us and shitheads?” Adelaide let out a sympathetic laugh, making her way to the cabinet to grab two glasses. Once she was satisfied, she placed then down on the table before grabbing the first bottle. “God, if I hear grown men fight about which is the best team in the NFL one more time.. I just might lose my mind. Genuinely. I just don’t get the appeal with sports.. especially Football. While I enjoy muscular men on top of me.. I like keeping my skeleton in one piece. They go down pretty hard.” The brunette shuddered before pouring a glass and handing it to Natalina. With a genuine grin, she held up her glass. This was deserved, on both of their ends. “Salut. To being done with the shitheads of the world for the day.”
Her reaction at the amount of wine she had brought home was warranted, considering that they were only a mere two people. She had brought enough home for, perhaps, a small gathering. If they drank every bottle, one of them might have ended up in the hospital. “Of course I care about the state of your liver. Is it really that bad of an idea to have a stash? It’s good wine too.”
“Oh, see, I thought you’d like ‘em going down pretty hard,” Natalina deadpanned, only holding her composure for a moment before chuckling softly. She accepted the glass happily, relieved that the day had finally finished. Glass raised slightly, then as she heard the toast her nose scrunched a bit. “You may be done with shitheads for the day, but I’ve still got one here to deal with one.”
Taking a long drink, her head nodded side-to-side as if she was deep in thought, “sure.” Another long sip, which left her glass almost empty. “You’ve really got nothing better to do than hang here for the night? Joining the little babushka club and staying home at night now? Bedtime’s in...” playfully, she glanced at her watch, “half an hour.”
CLOSED STARTER FOR NATALINA KUZNETSOV. ( @blcsscms )
Natalina should have realized at this point that Adelaide wasn’t exactly proficient at knocking. This was especially true after listening to a bar full of goons blabber on about football, the stock market and perhaps the worst of their topics, how much game they had for hours at a time. In her opinion, if you had to brag about how much game you had to your buddies, you didn’t have any. “Perks of managing a club.. free wine!” She made her way to the table and after setting down the several bottles she cradled in her arms, she turned to face her friend before motioning to them a-la Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune. “Care to indulge with me?” Regardless, Adelaide knew she wanted to get absolutely plastered. The question was: was it going to be with or without her friend.
Natalina had just finished typing an email response to one of her patients when her front door opened. There was a momentary freeze and panic, just until she caught side of Adelaide. A smile made it’s way onto Nat’s expression, and fingers quietly typed the rest of her response before firmly shutting her laptop. “Truly nothing would make me happier after dealing with this shithead all day,” she leaned back in the chair she was in. Rubbing her temples softly, she took some long breaths. There was nothing that could have prepared her for the clients that would stroll into her office in Wickway — perhaps it was blissful ignorance thinking that a secluded place wouldn’t bring her the oddities she found at home.
It was almost laughable how similar her job was to Adelaide’s at times — namely in listening to others empty out their minds. If only Natalina’s patients could get some liquid courage in her office. Sessions would absolutely be more beneficial. Closed eyes had briefly concealed the amount that Adelaide had brought along, just until Natalina felt zen enough to open them and was met with the sight. “Christ,” she laughed, “is the state of my liver not a priority of yours?”
TO FAULT HER FOR THUMBING HER NOSE, at the mess that most certainly was walking and talking right in front of her, was to be expected. That did not stop her from feigning offense at the way she was greeted, as if she shouldn’t have done the exact same in Nat’s position. Hell, she had done the exact same, except her reaction was more like pushing prospects off the front lawn of the clubhouse before they had a chance to bleed on it. “This is not a crime scene, thank you very much.” The bruises on her knuckles say otherwise, especially when you paired them with the blood under fingernails, but that was neither here nor there. She plopped down in the chair she was directed: after, shutting the door of course, because as independent as she knew the other woman was, that didn’t stop her from anticipating her needs. She deserved people to give a fuck, after so many hadn’t. “So, does minor disagreement cover it, or did you want a play by play? I’ve always wanted to be in sports commentary.”
“Well, not yet it’s not,” Natalina shrugged, placing herself beside Maeson while gathering what she’d need from the kit. There truly was no telling where the other was coming from. Which, could’ve been said about most of those whose skin she had sutured. Often there was no time for questions, nor anyone who was willing to answer them. “Minor?” Nat echoed the word with raised eyebrows, nearly pausing in the middle of her preparation process. “It doesn’t,” head shaking as she leaned forward to gently clean the wound, “minor disagreement does not even begin to cover it.” Wincing slightly as the damp gauze revealed the answer to her own mental will I need to sew this bitch’s head questioning. “I’m absolutely going to need the full shebang. We have plenty of time while I stitch this shit up.”
PATIENCE SHOULD HAVE BEEN A VIRTUE SHE LEARNED GROWING UP. Instead Joaquin prided himself on giving her more important, more gruesome lessons. Perhaps that was why she understood the caveats that came with Natalina to begin with, they were opposite ends of the same spectrum, pages in different chapters of the same book. Shoulder leaned against the doorframe, preparing for a lecture, at the very least. “It’s not as bad as it looks.” Words, she’d said a thousand times by now, but her eyebrow would likely need stitches, and there was blood drying in a dramatic pattern across forehead. “I just thought you might be able to you know, handle that.” Motion toward her face. “Better than I can, because I don’t have the patience to avoid turning myself into the female harry potter or some shit.” @blcsscms
Almost thankful for an interruption from the paperwork that coated her desk, Natalina’s eyes flicked to the doorway. A smile nearly tugged the corners of her mouth, until her mind processed that the sight before her was merely the new mess that occupied her office. “Christ,” she sighed. Natalina gripped the edge of her desk to pull herself into a standing position, “please, sit down.” A hand blindly navigated to one of the desk’s drawers, promptly retrieving a first aid kit. “Don’t make a mess on the rug, I’ve just cleaned the last crime scene off of it,” she quipped quietly, a small smile now blooming on her lips. The next task at hand was shutting her door — Natalina wasn’t a conventional, rule-following practicing physician by any means, but she preferred to keep the façade up for her colleagues. “Do I, at least, get to know what the hell you did?”
【 emily blunt, cisfemale, 33 】this just in - NATALINA KUZNETSOV has been in wickway for FIVE MONTHS. apparently SHE is a PSYCHIATRIST and FINANCIER for the SANTOROS, or so HER passport says. so far it’s known that SHE favors WICKWAY GENERAL HOSPITAL, and resides at EAST SIDE. SHE is also said to be KIND & PERCEPTIVE, but also EMOTIONALLY DETACHED & RETICENT. at the end of the day, SHE can be described as THE WHITE SHEEP FROM A FAMILY OF BLACK SHEEP, FRANKENSTEIN’S MONSTER, & SOFT APOLGIES WHISPERED INTO THE ROARING WIND.
Name: Natalina Ivanovna Kuznetsov.
Aliases: Nat, Lina, слабая маленькая птичка (weak little bird, by her parents and their workers)
Gender/Pronouns: Cisfemale, she/her.
Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual.
Age: Thirty-Three.
Birthdate: November 14th, 1987.
Occupation: Practicing Psychiatrist at Wickway General Hospital and Financier for the Santoro gang.
Height: 5′7.
Build: Fairly fit, though not as much as she often is due to her injury. Lean.
Skin Tone: Fair.
Hair: Medium/Light brown.
Eyes: Blue.
Identifying Marks: Multiple tattoos (namely for her affiliations with her family & the Santoros), a few personal small tattoos that are kept covered.
Appearance: Almost doe-eyed, appearing innocent and kind.
Personality: Meek, chronically apologetic, though she can be cold and withdrawn when upset.
Best Quality: Her loyalty and empathy.
Worst Quality: The inability to stand up for herself & the fear she holds around anyone in any sort of power.
Fears: Her husband/being sent back to NYC to live with him.
Hobbies: Before college, she was a fairly known pianist & harpist in the small area she lived. She still owns both a piano and a harp, though they are both pretty dusty these days. Growing up Natalina also did ballet, which actually helped her with her self-defense training.
Talents: Hybrid martial arts ( krav maga specifically ), knives, music.
Skills: Intelligent; meticulous and thorough with her work.
Affiliations: The Santoros, and her family’s mob.
Family: Ivan Kuznetsov (father), Yana Kuznetsov (mother), Ivan Kuznetsov II (older brother), Alexei Kuznetsov (older brother), Dimitri Kuznetsov (older brother), Nikolai Kuznetsov (older brother), Erik Kuznetsov (older brother), Sergei Kuznetsov (older brother), Lucya Kuznetsov (older sister).
Best Friends: Prefers not to form those kinds of attachments.
Relationship Status: Legally married ( an arranged marriage), though single.
Significant Other: Her husband Anton, though she prefers not to speak of him.
Other Relationships: Fellow gang members, and a few acquaintances/hook-ups.
Secret: Natalina is constantly looking for ways out of the gang/mob lifestyle, despite how dedicated she may be to assisting them and working with them at times. She’s always plotting and looking for loopholes.
Source of Pride: Her skills and abilities.
—
The Kuznetsov name was almost something of an urban legend in a small city in the heart of Russia. Everyone knew of the name, everyone knew of the family’s power and the dark things that they did to hold the power— but nobody knew who they were. They went by a different last name when in public, so to disguise themselves and to maintain their secrecy. One faulty operation led to the leaders of the mob fleeing the country with their six children, moving to New York— where they already had mob members residing and working overseas. Not long after the move, their youngest child was born.
As per their tradition with raising children, neither Ivan nor Yana ever once held their youngest daughter. That was a job for their nannies. Despite her cold, loveless upbringing, Natalina ended up being the white sheep in a family full of black sheep; she was way too perky and playful a child to fit in with the bunch. Her happy-go-lucky personality was more of an inconvenience for them, which only made her parents and her siblings (who were all adults by the time she was born) even tougher on the little girl. With special martial arts training that gave her the ability to take down a grown man at the age of nine, and enough emotional abuse and manipulation to train the girl not to cry— they sucked the life and cheerfulness out of the girl and made her a machine. A killing machine. Most of Natalina’s adolescence was spent going on “trips” with her father and two of her brothers, being used as the secret weapon in their operations. After all, none of the people that they had to fight expected to see the sweet little teenager to bring half of their men down on her own.
However, once she graduated high school, Natalina temporarily left the mob life ( or so she thought ) to go to college and Med school. She studied to be a Psychiatrist, and enjoyed the very faint taste of freedom that she earned with her long-winded studies. It took her a bit longer than she’d ever dare admit, but Natalina realized a few years into her schooling that she wasn’t quite as free as she thought. As it turned out, her parents had sent some of their workers to spy on her while she lived on campus. They were planted around her dorm, the buildings where she went to class, and later the hospital she was interning. Knowing that her father’s workers could be around any corner gave the young adult some sort of thrill, and she found herself feeling a high as she outsmarted them and did just about everything that her parents were trying to keep her from doing. It was around this time that Natalina swore to herself that she’d get out of the tangled mess that was her family— one day.
That task in particular proved to be rather difficult, and soon after finishing her residency, Natalina found herself back in New York. Her medical knowledge was being used to her parents’ advantage. Now, rather than being on the front lines of dangerous fights, she was the one anyone would go to for wounds after said fights, or even if they were simply feeling ill. After all, it wasn’t like they could send their injured workers to the local hospitals. They eliminated every last drop of Natalina’s independence, utilizing her intellect and her knowledge endlessly. She was absolutely miserable, and was plotting her escape with every passing day. The icing on the cake was that only a few months after she was home, Natalina learned that her father had set up an arranged marriage with his closest acquaintance’s son. She was forcibly wed to the man— whose job was to keep the woman in line, using whatever means necessary. Ideally, he and Natalina would one day bring the two families together and lead an even more powerful mob. Which would work if only she was compliant.
The abuse went on for what felt like centuries, though Natalina was able to get through it all due to her outstanding ability to completely emotionally detach herself from difficult situations. There was nothing the young adult longed for more than to get the hell away from everyone she knew and their torturous lifestyle, and eventually she finally formulated a solid plan. Initially, she was going to take out her husband, Anton, fake her own death, and then vanish. However, her parents’ workers, her brothers, and her parents themselves were far too determined. They’d likely hunt her down in no time, and they’d treat her as they would treat any other traitor they had crossed. Natalina knew that she’d have to get rid of them all for any sort of escape to work.
Her plan never went into action. During an operation that took a turn for the worst, Natalina had to stop mid-combat to help her injured partner. The quick moment she spent popping a joint back into place turned out to be Natalina’s demise— an opponent took the opportunity to take her down, managing to stab her in her back before he himself was taken down. The injury put Natalina out of work for a few months as she went through extensive (and extremely rushed) physical therapy demanded by her mother and father. The injury never quite healed right, leaving Natalina unable to stand unassisted for long. In her parents’ eyes, she was as good as dead. Ivan used his ties and connections to send Natalina to Wickway, where she would be able to heal while doing less extensive work. More so, it was to remove his daughter from his sight for some time, while utilizing her intelligence for his own gain. It wasn’t a full escape from her family’s grasp, but it was good enough for Natalina. She took the move with pride, happily moving miles and miles away from her family and her husband.
And there she stayed, building a quiet life for herself. Natalina used her prior knowledge to work for the Santoro gang, as well as maintaining a steady job at the hospital. To some it may have seemed painfully mundane; but it was about as close to a dream come true as she would likely ever get.
