Post by Ivan Braginski on May 30, 2011 14:08:33 GMT -5
[/u][/size]His little whispers. Love me. Love me. That’s all I ask for. Love me. Love me.
►►Ivan Braginski
Nation ► Rossiskaya Federatsiya // Russian Federation
Human Name ► Ivan Braginski
Age ► 485 years old, but appears 27
Gender ► Male
Species ► Vampire
Description ►
Ivan is bound by a wooden cross choker necklace that he hides behind his scarf and two iron bracelets that have bible versus etched into them that he hides under long sleeves and gloves.Ivan stands at about 6'4” or 182.88 cm.
He battered his tiny fist to feel something. Wondered what it’s like to touch and feel something.
Likes ►
o Sunflowers
o Warmth
o The Sun
o Being alone
o Vodka
o Blood
o Mind games
o Riddles
Dislikes ►
x The cold
x Snow
x Obnoxious, loud people
x Being proved wrong
x Getting burnt by the Sun
x Winter
x Having his scarf touched
x His inability to sleep normally and dream
x Getting too close to someone, literally and figuratively
Strengths ►
o Able Bodied -
o Clever
o Even tempered
o Convincing
Weaknesses ►
x Addicted
x Condescending
x Unpredictable
x Unclear
Dreams ►
o To remember his human life
o To find and destroy his creator
o To find a way to revert back to being a human
o To be free
Fears ►
x Being enslaved for all eternity
x Not being able to find out who he was
x To find out, but hate what he's done
x To lose his sense of self
Personality ►
At first coming off as a childish person with slightly violent tendencies, this isn't far off. No one seems to be able to understand him because he usually doesn't let anyone in. Ever. Towering above most people, Ivan uses this to his full advantage to intimidate people to do things, or to placate arguments before they start. He is often seen with a blank, or even creepy smile tugging at his pale lips. While on the subject of Ivan's face, it is often childish with soft features, (minus his strong Russian nose) velvet soft lips that chap easily in the cold and dark blue eyes that seem violet in certain lights.
If you ever really get to know Ivan, you find a very different person.
In reality, Ivan is a very deep man with an excellent understanding of how the human mind works and reacts under certain circumstances. He's always pushing at people and toying with them to see how they'll react and if an how they lash out or reclude. Although, contrary to most peoples view of him, the large Russian can be very gentle and kind, and is an able person to confide in and get usable advice. He only shows this side if you've really gotten to know him though, and that takes more effort than most are willing to put in. Despite his understanding of the human mind, this nation can be very oblivious of how other's feel or perceive his actions; thus his somewhat violent streak now and then.
One more strange aspect of this man's personality is his obsession with weapons and weapons history. For example, the man can spend hours just examining the blade of a knife with a delighted smile on his face. This seems to play into the violent nature that almost everyone sees first. Ivan can usually be seen with an old style faucet pipe and will more often than not use it threateningly to emphasize his point.
And lastly... A word of advice; never get Ivan Braginski drunk. Although the feat within itself is difficult because Ivan's alcohol tolerance is very high. Vodka and other Russian brews are the only thing that seem to get him drunk. If and when you actually do get him drunk, the Russian becomes truly violent and not just acting. Just a warning before hand...
History ►
Ivan woke up in a dark cellar, no light, no sound, nothing.
When he tried to move, the man had found his hands were chained to the wall with metal cuffs that dug into his skin like knives. His legs felt weak and his neck hurt, his head hurt, even his eyes hurt. His whole body just hurt.
Leaning his head back against the brick wall, Ivan realized he had no idea what he was doing here, or even who was. Opening his eyes, the man started to panic as he wracked his brain over and over again but always kept coming up short on answers. What was going on!? His breathing started to speed up a bit, but he realized his heart wasn't beating. If his blood was even warm anymore, it would have run cold at that.
A movement in the corner of his eye caught the man's attention, his head snapped in that direction as a torch suddenly flared to life right by Ivan. His vision flashing white, the Russian man quickly closed his eyes and turned his head away as a deep, rich voice spoke.
“Your name is Ivan Braginski. You are a Russian man of 27 years old, born in 1526 in Moskau, Russia. You are a vampire.” Something clanked in front of Ivan as he pried one eye open a fraction of an inch. It was the key to his cuffs. Without another word, the torch went out and the man at the stairs was gone.
Watching after him for a second, Ivan turned his attention to the key and wondered how the hell that man expected him to unlock himself from these cuffs. Wait... He was a vampire, right? Then he could just break the cuffs, couldn't he? Pulling as hard as he could manage, the Russian man gave a low growl at the insistence of the cuffs; having not gotten any leeway what-so-ever.
After what seemed like years, Ivan had managed to get himself free of the cuffs and stood; glancing around his cell. Now that the iron cuffs were off, he inspected them slightly. They had bible versus on them. Vampires were weakened by religious items and words, weren't they? No wonder he couldn't get himself free.
Tip-toeing carefully up the rock stairs, he peered around the door when he got to the top. There was nothing there but a table with a note on it. Walking to the note, he picked it up and read the beautifully scrawled Russian on the parchment.
Dear Ivan Braginski,
You are my finest creation. In peak physical condition, beautiful, exotic eyes, soft, luxurious hair, an excellent sense of what is going on at all times. You are my finest creation.
In the bag, you will find everything you will need for a few days. Clothes, food, water, fire starting equipment... Blood. This last one is the most important, mind you. You've been in that cell for the better part of a month, changing, growing, becoming. You should drink it as soon as possible. Right about now, your knees should be shaking a bit and your stomach is contracting in a painful manner.
In any case, I leave you with these few, simple words. You are my creation, you are my finest, and you are a vampire. As a vampire, your senses are heightened ten fold and your speed and strength are incredible. Use this knowledge well. We will meet again.
Farewell,
Your Creator
Ivan stared in disbelief at the note, turning it over and over, reading it until the realization set it. Digging through the leather bag left for him, Ivan quickly found the flask of blood. Opening the cap, he sniffed it experimentally, finding the metallic, iron aroma to be intoxicatingly divine. Throwing back his head, Ivan drained the contents of the flask quickly, still thirsting for more afterward.
Frantically looking through the bag, he found no more. Giving a growl of frustration, the blond quickly donned the clothes and found a way out of the castle; attacking the nearest living thing with warm blood.
Through the next few centuries, Ivan merely existed. Traveling from one place to the other, avoiding the magic users and their bindings, just trying to stay alive.
Until they found him.
He had been feeding on a woman he'd managed to seduce into the forest, setting her lifeless body onto the ground as he wiped his reddened lips. Ivan was always most vunerable after feeding. His mind was hazy, his reaction time was slow, he was extremely lethargic, and he was oblivious to his surroundings.
At first, he heard the far away chant of Bible versus, his head starting to buzz slightly before he was pulled out of his stupor by holy water being thrown on his. Hissing in anger, the vampire lashed out at those closest to him, but found he was in a ring of salt.
They all sat there until it was almost dawn, Ivan beginning to panic. The men said they could keep him from burning if he just let them come near him. Too frantic to be thinking straight, he let them as the first ray of sunlight shone through the branches; scortching his skin.
He'd have rather burned.
The wooden cross was attached first, sending fire through his dead veins and leaving a visible burn around where the choke attached. Incapacitated with pain, the men took their chance to attach the cuffs, Bible versus inscribed on the inside, to either of his wrists. This sent pure agony through Ivan's entire body, sending him into a hellish spiral. He blacked out.
It wasn't for days until he woke up in the black market, where he currently resides.
Monster, how should I feel? Creatures lie here, looking through the window…
Roleplay Sample ►
Standing in his kitchen, making borsch with a cheery tune on his lips, Ivan was completely unprepared when the blizzard hit. He didn't personally believe in the apocalypse, so he hadn't made much effort to prepare. Blizzards weren't all that unusual, mind you, but this one didn't sit well with the Russian. It was too sudden. Then the earthquakes started. On top of not being able to see much farther than ten feet in any direction, now you couldn't stand upright to save your life. Literally. Swaying and stumbling, Ivan managed to make into the heart of Moskau, assisting with the evacuation. He didn't notice that two of the copters had collided and were headed his way.
The blond nation didn't wake up for a long while yet, only coming to hours after the 'copter had crashed. His head hurt, his ribs hurt ( he had probably broken a few ), his entire body hurt as the nation pushed himself up. Something snapped in a horrible, ripping way and Ivan went down. Hard. Gripping at his now dislocated hip, he bit back a blood curdling scream and exhaled sharply through his nose; making a low grunting noise in the depths of his throat. He hadn't hurt this much since the Cold War. The blizzard was still going strong and Ivan could feel the earth rumbling deep in his bones as he looked around for something to brace his leg against. Seeing (barely) one of the copter wings, he crawled toward it and put his foot flat against the metal. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pressed down on the wing with all his strength. There was a loud pop and about a three second delay before Ivan finally screamed from the pain. He blacked out.
Coming to maybe an hour or so later, Ivan felt that chilling cold that had gotten to him in the bunker. Quickly pushing himself up in hopes of walking might warm his bones, he leaned against the side of the downed helicopter and glanced around for anything he could use as a crutch. Walking on a recently relocated joint always bore a risk of dislocating it again. Lucky enough, Ivan noticed a somewhat usable crutch. Unluckily, it belonged to child. The height factor didn't matter, crutches could be adjusted in height, but the fact the he would have to quite literally pry it out of the child's cold, dead fingers was what bothered Ivan. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a human side. Particularly for children, and not in a pedophile way. But he couldn't walk without a crutch... Putting his morals aside for a moment, Ivan limped over and knelled down, grasping the child's hand. Even though he had gloves on, the blond could feel the ice on the child's fingers and heard the crunch of breaking frost as he opened the small hand. He was going to be sick.
Focus on the crutch, Ivan, just the crutch. He told himself, swallowing down his rising stomach contents as he grabbed the crutch and quickly adjusted it. Ivan could feel the child's dead, sightless eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he put the adjusted crutch under his arm and limped off. If the blond cried now, he would get frostbite on his cheeks.
Now to just find my family...
The blond nation didn't wake up for a long while yet, only coming to hours after the 'copter had crashed. His head hurt, his ribs hurt ( he had probably broken a few ), his entire body hurt as the nation pushed himself up. Something snapped in a horrible, ripping way and Ivan went down. Hard. Gripping at his now dislocated hip, he bit back a blood curdling scream and exhaled sharply through his nose; making a low grunting noise in the depths of his throat. He hadn't hurt this much since the Cold War. The blizzard was still going strong and Ivan could feel the earth rumbling deep in his bones as he looked around for something to brace his leg against. Seeing (barely) one of the copter wings, he crawled toward it and put his foot flat against the metal. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he pressed down on the wing with all his strength. There was a loud pop and about a three second delay before Ivan finally screamed from the pain. He blacked out.
Coming to maybe an hour or so later, Ivan felt that chilling cold that had gotten to him in the bunker. Quickly pushing himself up in hopes of walking might warm his bones, he leaned against the side of the downed helicopter and glanced around for anything he could use as a crutch. Walking on a recently relocated joint always bore a risk of dislocating it again. Lucky enough, Ivan noticed a somewhat usable crutch. Unluckily, it belonged to child. The height factor didn't matter, crutches could be adjusted in height, but the fact the he would have to quite literally pry it out of the child's cold, dead fingers was what bothered Ivan. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a human side. Particularly for children, and not in a pedophile way. But he couldn't walk without a crutch... Putting his morals aside for a moment, Ivan limped over and knelled down, grasping the child's hand. Even though he had gloves on, the blond could feel the ice on the child's fingers and heard the crunch of breaking frost as he opened the small hand. He was going to be sick.
Focus on the crutch, Ivan, just the crutch. He told himself, swallowing down his rising stomach contents as he grabbed the crutch and quickly adjusted it. Ivan could feel the child's dead, sightless eyes boring holes into the back of his head as he put the adjusted crutch under his arm and limped off. If the blond cried now, he would get frostbite on his cheeks.
Now to just find my family...
OOC Section[/u][/size]
Alias ► Tai, Taibutt, Russbutt, whatever works c:
Time Zone ► GMT -8 (United States Pacific Coast) and GMT -6 during holidays (United States Gulf Coast, Central time)
Contact Method ► PM me, and I'll give you the information c:
Favorite Pairings ► Off the top of my head, I can't really think of any besides RoChu xD But... I kinda like PRussia because of all the amazing fanart I've seen dsgdsg. I suppose RussiaxSpain would be another... Yeah, I have no idea. Really. I don't.
As for other pairings, I like SpainxTaiwan, GreeceTaiwan, Giripan, TurkeyxGreece, PrussiaTaiwan... Okay, WorldxWorld.
Profile coded by Neko. Lyrics are from Monster by Meg and Dia. You are not able to use this profile anywhere else.
And my favourite ice cream is cookie-dough![/blockquote]
