The earliest memory she can recall is of a tiny glass ballerina that twirled on a pedestal to the tune of some classical ballad, the iridescent crystal catching the sunlight and showing off a myriad of purples and blues and pinks. She can also remember breaking it. There was no way to know at the time, but it was an ironic representation of how her life would eventually turn out.
It all began with the Hallmark movie-esque meeting of Red Guardian Securities CEO Ivan Reznikov and Russian prima ballerina Aleksandra Petrovitch. Their romance was a whirlwind, so caught up in each other they didn't realize that maybe they were moving a bit too fast. When asked, they explained that's how Russians loved; like a hurricane – beautiful, powerful, and destructive when caught in its path. Only eight months into the relationship, they were married and not long after, a beautiful red-headed baby girl was born on an oddly warm spring day in March.
Ever since she was a small child, Natassia was being groomed to follow in her mother's footsteps, much to her father's dismay. While other four year olds were playing in the mud or climbing on jungle gyms, she was learning pointe technique and different ballet positions. No matter how many times her parents discussed the issue, which consisted mostly of Ivan yelling and Aleksandra walking out of the room, the result was always the same: Natassia would continue her training. Which was why the time she spent with her father was some of her fondest and most treasured memories. He would play video games with her, eat mint chocolate chip ice cream straight from the carton, even teach her how to throw a football and kick a soccer ball (he always wanted a son, he never denied it and Natassia never took offense from it). As a child of somewhat wealthy parents, she never really wanted for anything in life. But her father gave her the one thing money could never buy – the chance to actually be a kid.
Unfortunately, Natassia's father passed away not long after her tenth birthday. It was heartbreaking and soul-crushing and every other word that could be associated with the death of a family member. She threw herself into dancing, unable to express her pain and grief any other way. She closed herself off, her mother dealing with the liquidation of her father's company, while ballet took over almost all facets of her life. But Natassia had pissed off fate somehow, in this life or the previous, and every thing she came to love was destined to leave her.
Ballet injuries were an inevitable feature of ballet life, there was no denying that. She had her fair share of sprained ankles and tendonitis, but in the infamous words of show business, the show must go on. Pain was just another part of the package, and if you weren't in pain, then you weren't performing to the best of your ability. You're not pushing yourself far enough. Those were the words her mother had told her once when she was sitting in an ice bath. Pain is as much a part of ballet as learning a grand jeté, it's built into the very gospel of it. So it say that Natassia had a high tolerance for pain was an severe understatement.
At seventeen, she wasn't thinking about how close graduation was or what boys were interested in her, like other normal teenagers. She actually wasn't thinking at all when she was driving down the streets of New York, the last thing on her mind that her last performance in the ballet company was literally going to be her last. Waking up in the hospital, hearing how bad the car accident had been and how her rescuers had to use the jaws of life to free her from the crushed remains of her car, it didn't exactly set in that her dancing career was pretty much over.
A shattered pelvis, broken femur, dislocated knee, and countless other cuts and bruises didn't sound all that horrible considering how brutal the accident must have looked from the outside, but Natassia never fully recovered. She could walk and move around, but the bolts in her hip and femur were not ideal when jumping around on stage. She never got back to where she was prior to the accident despite the aggressive rehabilitation. It was frustrating and gut-wrenching and every other word that could be associated with the premature death of her ballet career. Her mother never could get over the fact that her daughter would not be the dancer she had envisioned since she was a small girl. Too many reminders of her former life left her unsure about her place and where she would fit in now that she couldn't even do the one thing she was good at, so Natassia finished her college courses and left New York, never looking back.
It was refreshing to move to not only a different city but a whole other state. Granted, it wasn't far from New York, but Boston was as good a place as any to grow new roots. After her accident, she had been stripped bare, all of her secrets and insecurities laid out for everyone to see, but there were few people in Boston who knew who she was and what had happened to her. And for once, Natassia discovered that she liked that. This was her chance to start over and rebuild something for herself; something that no one had predestined for her.
She took what money her father had left her and opened a small ballet studio in the downtown Boston area. It didn't take long for whispers to spread that the young daughter of prima ballerina Aleksandra Petrovitch was instructing underprivileged kids in the ways of dance and ballet. She didn't pay attention to it, and pretty soon, the whispers died and she was left alone once again to help kids who had a passion for dancing, not even bothering to accept payment most of the time, which also forced her to pick up odd jobs doing yoga classes or whatever she could now and then for some extra cash. But that didn't really matter to her when she was helping people.. in her own way. She is still trying to be her best self (she knows she's nowhere near close), but she also knows that she is well on her way to getting there.
It all began with the Hallmark movie-esque meeting of Red Guardian Securities CEO Ivan Reznikov and Russian prima ballerina Aleksandra Petrovitch. Their romance was a whirlwind, so caught up in each other they didn't realize that maybe they were moving a bit too fast. When asked, they explained that's how Russians loved; like a hurricane – beautiful, powerful, and destructive when caught in its path. Only eight months into the relationship, they were married and not long after, a beautiful red-headed baby girl was born on an oddly warm spring day in March.
Ever since she was a small child, Natassia was being groomed to follow in her mother's footsteps, much to her father's dismay. While other four year olds were playing in the mud or climbing on jungle gyms, she was learning pointe technique and different ballet positions. No matter how many times her parents discussed the issue, which consisted mostly of Ivan yelling and Aleksandra walking out of the room, the result was always the same: Natassia would continue her training. Which was why the time she spent with her father was some of her fondest and most treasured memories. He would play video games with her, eat mint chocolate chip ice cream straight from the carton, even teach her how to throw a football and kick a soccer ball (he always wanted a son, he never denied it and Natassia never took offense from it). As a child of somewhat wealthy parents, she never really wanted for anything in life. But her father gave her the one thing money could never buy – the chance to actually be a kid.
Unfortunately, Natassia's father passed away not long after her tenth birthday. It was heartbreaking and soul-crushing and every other word that could be associated with the death of a family member. She threw herself into dancing, unable to express her pain and grief any other way. She closed herself off, her mother dealing with the liquidation of her father's company, while ballet took over almost all facets of her life. But Natassia had pissed off fate somehow, in this life or the previous, and every thing she came to love was destined to leave her.
Ballet injuries were an inevitable feature of ballet life, there was no denying that. She had her fair share of sprained ankles and tendonitis, but in the infamous words of show business, the show must go on. Pain was just another part of the package, and if you weren't in pain, then you weren't performing to the best of your ability. You're not pushing yourself far enough. Those were the words her mother had told her once when she was sitting in an ice bath. Pain is as much a part of ballet as learning a grand jeté, it's built into the very gospel of it. So it say that Natassia had a high tolerance for pain was an severe understatement.
At seventeen, she wasn't thinking about how close graduation was or what boys were interested in her, like other normal teenagers. She actually wasn't thinking at all when she was driving down the streets of New York, the last thing on her mind that her last performance in the ballet company was literally going to be her last. Waking up in the hospital, hearing how bad the car accident had been and how her rescuers had to use the jaws of life to free her from the crushed remains of her car, it didn't exactly set in that her dancing career was pretty much over.
A shattered pelvis, broken femur, dislocated knee, and countless other cuts and bruises didn't sound all that horrible considering how brutal the accident must have looked from the outside, but Natassia never fully recovered. She could walk and move around, but the bolts in her hip and femur were not ideal when jumping around on stage. She never got back to where she was prior to the accident despite the aggressive rehabilitation. It was frustrating and gut-wrenching and every other word that could be associated with the premature death of her ballet career. Her mother never could get over the fact that her daughter would not be the dancer she had envisioned since she was a small girl. Too many reminders of her former life left her unsure about her place and where she would fit in now that she couldn't even do the one thing she was good at, so Natassia finished her college courses and left New York, never looking back.
It was refreshing to move to not only a different city but a whole other state. Granted, it wasn't far from New York, but Boston was as good a place as any to grow new roots. After her accident, she had been stripped bare, all of her secrets and insecurities laid out for everyone to see, but there were few people in Boston who knew who she was and what had happened to her. And for once, Natassia discovered that she liked that. This was her chance to start over and rebuild something for herself; something that no one had predestined for her.
She took what money her father had left her and opened a small ballet studio in the downtown Boston area. It didn't take long for whispers to spread that the young daughter of prima ballerina Aleksandra Petrovitch was instructing underprivileged kids in the ways of dance and ballet. She didn't pay attention to it, and pretty soon, the whispers died and she was left alone once again to help kids who had a passion for dancing, not even bothering to accept payment most of the time, which also forced her to pick up odd jobs doing yoga classes or whatever she could now and then for some extra cash. But that didn't really matter to her when she was helping people.. in her own way. She is still trying to be her best self (she knows she's nowhere near close), but she also knows that she is well on her way to getting there.
Natalia Alianovna Romanova, known most commonly as the scarlet-haired Natasha Romanoff, is an expert spy, master of disguise, and assassin. Trained at a young age by the KGB's infamous Red Room, she was trained to be part of the Black Widow program, a team of elite female sleeper agents. One assisgnment led her on a mission against Tony Stark, but she later defected to the United States after breaking all ties with her former superiors, thanks in part to fellow superhero Hawkeye. Although she does pursue her own solo vigilante career, she is often included as a member of the Avengers and serves as a freelance agent of the international espionage group known as S.H.I.E.L.D.
comic parallels
» her name shares the same initials of n.a.r.
» her name is also a variation of natalia/natasha.
» also of russian decent.
» trained as a ballerina.
» similar personality and temperament.
» has a black cat with a likeness to liho.
» her father's name is ivan, after the man who was like a surrogate father to her cv counterpart. her mother's maiden name is also a nod to ivan as she has his last name of petrovitch.
» her name is also a variation of natalia/natasha.
» also of russian decent.
» trained as a ballerina.
» similar personality and temperament.
» has a black cat with a likeness to liho.
» her father's name is ivan, after the man who was like a surrogate father to her cv counterpart. her mother's maiden name is also a nod to ivan as she has his last name of petrovitch.
the red room's version of the super solider serum, it has slowed the aging process, heightened her immune system, and enhanced her physical durability to peak human level.
master martial artist
master markswoman
espionage training
multilingualism
special equipment contained in the gauntlets includes various explosives, tear gas pellets, and radio transmitter
widow's bite
widow's line
widow's kiss
classic costume
gray costume
black and red costume
memories of the red room
memories of s.h.i.e.l.d.
memories of the avengers
memories of thunderbolts
Black Widow is pulled from Marvel Earth 616.
• She is headstrong, foolhardy, always willing to speak her mind, and doesn't back down when there's something she wants.
• She is a flirt. It doesn't stem from a desire to be noticed or liked, but is actually the exact opposite. She's honestly scared to love. She has her own emotional walls up, so she flirts to control the situation so that she can get as close to people as she wants.
• Despite all that, she doesn't often seek out romantic relationships. She's had various flings, aside from one serious ex-boyfriend, and she is totally fine with being single. Less emotional attachments mean less chance of being hurt.
• More extrovert than introvert, she is pretty social, which creates an odd paradox because even though she is often surrounded by people she would consider friends, she is often still lonely.
• found her cat about two years ago in the alley behind her apartment complex. he was covered in dirt and grime and she was only supposed to take him in for a few days so that he could get clean and fed. but he kept coming around until one day, much to her chagrin, he never left. she called him rasputin because she liked to play that he was a bother and she didn't want him around, but she's come to like that little ball of black fur.
• when she's not being lazy, she likes to cook traditional russian food.
• being a dancer, she knows the importance of eating healthy, but she will indulge in junk food from time to time, her favorite being pizza and mint chocolate chip ice cream.
• Her ballet studio is called the Red Room by some of her students as an inside joke because of the brightly colored accent wall.
