01-26-2018, 09:08 PM
Age 28
Height 5 10
Weight 170
Eyes light brown
Hair light brown
Build athletic
Always has a grin or twinkle in eyes. Just having fun.
Mikhail grew up in Zamoskvoreche district, amid the squalor and crime and violence.
Mikhail's father was just muscle, a grunt for the Solntsevskaya Bratva, the largest crime family in Russia. The family had amassed powerful ties to the government (all the way to the top) and to the new crop of billionaire oligarchs that sprung up after the fall of the Soviet Union.
What goes up, though, must go down. When Nikolai Brandon began his ascent, knocking out rivals, making new connections, providing influence and largess to those who chafed under the current holders of power, many of those politicians, plutocrats and their families lost their place. And the criminal organization that had provided so much in the way of greased palms, enforcement, laundering, assistance of takeovers (hostile and otherwise), workers, etc, the Solntsevskaya Bratva also lost.
New families, the Kolomovs, the Mordvinovs, the Stoyas, the Perov's and others grew in power and wealth, influence and respect, reducing Solntsevskaya Bratva to a shell of what it once was. Old hatreds, resentments and vendettas decimated their ranks. Those who survived moved away or gradually found their place into the other families, trading information, contacts, muscle and money for influence and survival.
Mikhail’s father was too far down the totem pole to have any real enemies. Well none who were as good as he was, anyway. So he survived, albeit now amidst the squalor of a Moscow that had once been his. He told his son the old stories, recounted his glory days, and constantly complained about how everything had changed. “There's no loyalty. We had been great once. One day we'll get our chance.”
But Mikhail totally got a different message. For him, the ending of all the stories his pops told had one thing missing. The most important thing of all. The fucking punchline! The realization that all of it was one big joke. Pride in the family? Hah! In your position? Yeah right. What you had?. Nothing was really yours anyway. Loyalty? Loyal-what?
In fact, as far as he is concerned, everything is part of the joke. The funniest (or saddest, depending on his mood) part of it all is that most don't even realize it. They take everything so fucking seriously. He doesn't. So he has his fun. He gets his things and likes them. But he’s not attached to anything. He's not surprised when it leaves.
So yeah, Mikhail liked his dad ok. He loved his mom more. When he visited after moving out, she’d always made sure to cook his favorites. But, life happens, you know? They died. Nothing spectacular. No massive illnesses or major violence or anything. Just got old, he guessed. First dad and his heart attack. Then mom and her stroke a year later. He was 16.
He didn’t laugh about it. He wasn’t heartless. He missed them. But that was life. Just life... Can’t complain when life acts like life, right?
Still, woulda been cool if they coulda seen him channel. That had happened all at once. He’d been doing work for someone- not good to name names, you know. Can’t be spreading information and all that. Had to travel to find a guy who was hiding and not doing his duty for the community (or at least paying for it). Anyway, some dickhole Gopniks jumped him. He hated those fuckers and their stupid Addidas shoes and jackets and shit, all crouched around watching people, passing the bottle. Pack of mutts like what roamed his neighborhood. Bout as civilized, too.
Anyway, they jumped him as he was lighting up a cigarette and then a bottle flashed and he was on the ground or something- hard to remember, what with all the boots in his face and balls- and something snapped and suddenly the air smelled of burning whatever-the-hell they make Addidas out of and then they were running and despite the pain in his head and balls he laughed and laughed.
Stumbled up and made it to his one bedroom apartment and collapsed on the bed where he shivered the best part of 3 days. So, that was fun, you know? Sheets all soaked and he had missed his date with Nadya. Her pissy message on his wallet made him laugh though. Ah well, he’d make it up to her. All part of the system anyway.
Bottom line, though, was that there were times he could sense a light in the distance. Course he had to be holding that lighter, so, there was that. He supposed he coulda been holding something else when it happened, though. That would have made things funny. Haha, universe. Another joke, right? Almost- seriously, no joke- almost he wished it had happened that way just to see the looks on people’s faces when he channeled. "What the hell is that guy doing with that?"That woulda been even better. Hilarious
Oh yeah, forgot to mention. He loved showing off what he could do. Not like ‘Derrr, hey guys, check out what I can do.’ He just liked channeling in public. People didn’t have to know it was him. It was just funny to watch their expressions as they jumped or something fell over or a car exploded.
He found that fire called to him, just like it had when he was a kid. And he was the receptive kinda guy who picked up that call.
So that’s Mikhail. Just out to see what new joke the universe has in store. Play some of his own. Get his, while he can. Leave ‘em wanting more.
Edited by Mikhail, Jan 26 2018, 10:50 PM.
Height 5 10
Weight 170
Eyes light brown
Hair light brown
Build athletic
Always has a grin or twinkle in eyes. Just having fun.
Mikhail grew up in Zamoskvoreche district, amid the squalor and crime and violence.
Mikhail's father was just muscle, a grunt for the Solntsevskaya Bratva, the largest crime family in Russia. The family had amassed powerful ties to the government (all the way to the top) and to the new crop of billionaire oligarchs that sprung up after the fall of the Soviet Union.
What goes up, though, must go down. When Nikolai Brandon began his ascent, knocking out rivals, making new connections, providing influence and largess to those who chafed under the current holders of power, many of those politicians, plutocrats and their families lost their place. And the criminal organization that had provided so much in the way of greased palms, enforcement, laundering, assistance of takeovers (hostile and otherwise), workers, etc, the Solntsevskaya Bratva also lost.
New families, the Kolomovs, the Mordvinovs, the Stoyas, the Perov's and others grew in power and wealth, influence and respect, reducing Solntsevskaya Bratva to a shell of what it once was. Old hatreds, resentments and vendettas decimated their ranks. Those who survived moved away or gradually found their place into the other families, trading information, contacts, muscle and money for influence and survival.
Mikhail’s father was too far down the totem pole to have any real enemies. Well none who were as good as he was, anyway. So he survived, albeit now amidst the squalor of a Moscow that had once been his. He told his son the old stories, recounted his glory days, and constantly complained about how everything had changed. “There's no loyalty. We had been great once. One day we'll get our chance.”
But Mikhail totally got a different message. For him, the ending of all the stories his pops told had one thing missing. The most important thing of all. The fucking punchline! The realization that all of it was one big joke. Pride in the family? Hah! In your position? Yeah right. What you had?. Nothing was really yours anyway. Loyalty? Loyal-what?
In fact, as far as he is concerned, everything is part of the joke. The funniest (or saddest, depending on his mood) part of it all is that most don't even realize it. They take everything so fucking seriously. He doesn't. So he has his fun. He gets his things and likes them. But he’s not attached to anything. He's not surprised when it leaves.
So yeah, Mikhail liked his dad ok. He loved his mom more. When he visited after moving out, she’d always made sure to cook his favorites. But, life happens, you know? They died. Nothing spectacular. No massive illnesses or major violence or anything. Just got old, he guessed. First dad and his heart attack. Then mom and her stroke a year later. He was 16.
He didn’t laugh about it. He wasn’t heartless. He missed them. But that was life. Just life... Can’t complain when life acts like life, right?
Still, woulda been cool if they coulda seen him channel. That had happened all at once. He’d been doing work for someone- not good to name names, you know. Can’t be spreading information and all that. Had to travel to find a guy who was hiding and not doing his duty for the community (or at least paying for it). Anyway, some dickhole Gopniks jumped him. He hated those fuckers and their stupid Addidas shoes and jackets and shit, all crouched around watching people, passing the bottle. Pack of mutts like what roamed his neighborhood. Bout as civilized, too.
Anyway, they jumped him as he was lighting up a cigarette and then a bottle flashed and he was on the ground or something- hard to remember, what with all the boots in his face and balls- and something snapped and suddenly the air smelled of burning whatever-the-hell they make Addidas out of and then they were running and despite the pain in his head and balls he laughed and laughed.
Stumbled up and made it to his one bedroom apartment and collapsed on the bed where he shivered the best part of 3 days. So, that was fun, you know? Sheets all soaked and he had missed his date with Nadya. Her pissy message on his wallet made him laugh though. Ah well, he’d make it up to her. All part of the system anyway.
Bottom line, though, was that there were times he could sense a light in the distance. Course he had to be holding that lighter, so, there was that. He supposed he coulda been holding something else when it happened, though. That would have made things funny. Haha, universe. Another joke, right? Almost- seriously, no joke- almost he wished it had happened that way just to see the looks on people’s faces when he channeled. "What the hell is that guy doing with that?"That woulda been even better. Hilarious
Oh yeah, forgot to mention. He loved showing off what he could do. Not like ‘Derrr, hey guys, check out what I can do.’ He just liked channeling in public. People didn’t have to know it was him. It was just funny to watch their expressions as they jumped or something fell over or a car exploded.
He found that fire called to him, just like it had when he was a kid. And he was the receptive kinda guy who picked up that call.
So that’s Mikhail. Just out to see what new joke the universe has in store. Play some of his own. Get his, while he can. Leave ‘em wanting more.
Edited by Mikhail, Jan 26 2018, 10:50 PM.
"Good and ill.
We're like the wind,
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods