Natalie Rochefort is a twenty-two-year-old Neanderthal woman studying environmental science. Short, broad, and immensely strong, she comes from an entirely ordinary modern Neanderthal family and has spent her life periodically encountering people who are surprised to discover that the word “Neanderthal” does not imply that she lives in a cave, communicates through grunting, or requires assistance operating a smartphone.
Natalie generally handles these assumptions with dry amusement. She doesn't mind genuine curiosity and is perfectly happy to talk about her family or ancestry, but has little patience for being treated as either a prehistoric curiosity or somebody's opportunity to demonstrate how much they remember from anthropology class. The occasional stranger who confidently informs her that Neanderthals went extinct receives her standard response: “We didn't go extinct, Kevin. I'm sitting right here.”
Environmental science suits Natalie because she likes work with tangible connections to the physical world. She's particularly interested in ecosystems, conservation, and the ways human activity reshapes landscapes over time. Fieldwork comes naturally to her, although classmates have occasionally discovered that Natalie's definition of “we can probably carry it” is influenced by a substantially different understanding of what objects are heavy.
Her strength is useful, but Natalie doesn't build her identity around it. She enjoys being capable and isn't above having fun with people's expectations, but she has no particular desire to turn every social occasion into an arm-wrestling tournament. She's calm, observant, stubborn when something matters, and possessed of a deadpan sense of humor that occasionally leaves people wondering whether she was joking until several minutes later.
Natalie rides a vintage motorcycle that she maintains with considerable affection and an increasing collection of tools. She likes being outdoors, exploring back roads, working with her hands, casual nights with friends, and the satisfying independence of being able to fix something herself. The motorcycle also suits her considerably better than many compact modern cars, which appear to have been designed by people unfamiliar with shoulders.
Her best friend, Julie, has children who know her as Auntie Nat. Natalie takes the honorary title seriously, despite pretending otherwise, and is extremely good with them. She's patient with questions, willing to play ridiculous games, and sufficiently strong that requests to be picked up have occasionally escalated into multiple children attempting to board her simultaneously. Julie considers this Natalie's problem for encouraging them.
Natalie is comfortable with what she is without feeling any obligation to perform it. She doesn't possess mystical ancestral wisdom, doesn't feel an inexplicable spiritual connection to mammoths, and has never once felt compelled to crouch beside a fire while contemplating the Pleistocene.
She's twenty-two.
She has assignments due. 🏍️📚