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AF2 || Vasya Akulov

Published: Dec 31, 2015

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Description

_{Past applications: sta.sh/26i620yuxyz?edit=1

ll General Information ll

»Name: Vasya Akulov ( VAY-zee-ah )
»Nickname[s]: Vas, "Fire Breather", "The Russian Dragon" ( By Yana ), "Rasputin" ( By Charlene ), "Lizard Boy" ( By Yana )

»Gender: Cis Male
»Age: 20
»D.O.B: December 24th
»Team: RED
»Class: Pyro

»Height: 6'7"
»Weight: 210 lbs
»Nationality: Russian

ll Personal Information ll

»Personality:

Aggressive/Demanding || Decisive Loyalty || Flirty || Headstrong/Prideful
Ignorant || Independent || Violently closed Off/Self Kept || Somewhat of a show off

»History: Vasya came from the large city of Moscow, originally born into a large wealthy family. Vasya's life was planned out ahead of him-- he was to obey every command from his parents, act accordingly to how they had shaped him and his siblings, and marry directly into the family of their choice to the person he was immediately coupled with by birth. He hated what his family had planned ahead of him as he grew older, growing violently envious of his classmates who were free to decide their lives. It wasn't fair, why was his entire life planned out for him when others could choose what they wanted to be? What about what he wanted?? As the Russian grew older he started to grow more rebellious towards his parents, constantly lashing out against their wishes and forcing bad habits upon himself in backlash. He had forced himself to smoke, pick pocketing items off of passing strangers. Eventually by the age of 15, the family woke up to his bedroom empty and abandoned, bedroom window open.

Vasya wandered far from home under the cover of dark, sleeping in the alleyways in the middle of the bustling city for weeks at a time. The teenager lived off of stolen food and unfinished cigarettes, small matches his only source of light when the sun fell. His hiding spot was discovered by the city's mafia, the teenager discovering as of late that it was in their territory. The Russian apologized desperately, honestly horrified that they'd do something drastic to the runaway for being in their base of operations. They weren't however, the group offering to take the teen in. He was baffled at first, so many things running through his head-- especially as to why they'd spare him in the first place! He had nowhere to go, his family probably not giving a shit if he was gone or not. They had other children to control, why should they care? Vasya took their offer, the group giving the teen a place to stay and an education about the street.

The city's mafia raised him from the ground up, teaching him he could do and be anything he wanted to. The man's cigarette flames became his main source of comfort, and after being given his job in the group, the larger the flame the better he felt. The heat warmed more than his surface, it took away anything he deemed wasn't worthy. He decided now, it was his job to decide what stayed and what burned. That was his job. The man was destructive, refusing to leave any trace of evidence. Vasya grew cocky however, thinking he'd rid of all the evidence of the previous job and ending up landing the pyromaniac in hot water. The police had started to discover more and more traces of the gang's involvement, Vasya growing hot with panic. What the hell was he going to do?? They'd lock him the fuck up!! Or worse, probably send him back to his god forsaken family. The group was forced to cut off their pyro, making sure they had no connections to the fuck up as Vasya fled Moscow to hide. The runaway fled to Yekaterinburg, laying low in a horribly kept apartment for a few months. Word of the unkept job spread, Vasya digging his nails into his head.

Word from the mafia reached the pyro again, the group offering to fly the runaway out of the country. The police couldn't catch him, if they managed to make the man crack the mafia themselves would dwindle. This was the plan. Don't fight, don't argue-- dare say a word against them and he'd be killed. He was to leave his home with no belongings, only the clothes on his back and the money in his pocket. His plane would be booked for him and he wouldn't say a word. As far as Russia was concerned, he didn't exist anymore. Vasya was forced to flee the country, buying multiple sets of clothes from the local airport he'd landed at. He changed quickly, replacing the clothing in the bag with his old set and burning the evidence in an abandoned spot.

Vasya found himself in Tuefort, returning to his original living conditions before he was taken in; living in an alleyway with only his lighter and enough money to provide him food for the time being. He wandered the town with his hands in his pockets, turning into the alleyway to have a smoke before his eyes locked onto the dumpster. It was...flooded with fliers. Upon closer inspection they were all the same, all offering a job at a company called "Mann.Co." Why they were all trashed was beyond him, especially seeing that they were calling out desperately for workers without any job experience need. His eyes narrowed in question, taking one of the fliers from the dumpster and wandering from the alleyway to inspect where it'd come from. He dragged himself down the street, more and more fliers littering the sidewalk before finally coming across their source-- a man with a bag on his head, a poorly-drawn gas mask on it. It seemed he worked for the company, the man noticing Vasya's stare and pointing at the flier in his hand with a thumbs up.

The pyro had proven his interest, the strange masked man signalling for him to follow before leading him into the desert. As far as the pyro was concerned, he was probably being led to his death. Honestly, it was welcomed. To the runaway's surprise however, the man lifted a curtain-- showing a separate road surrounded by fencing just behind it. He'd been led to a large area of buildings, one large one reading RED and it's opposite, BLU. He was told he'd be offered a paying job somewhat similar to his experience before, shelter, a bed, food, and a uniform; instead of listening to more of what the job entailed, Vasya immediately shook the man's hand and accepted the job on the spot.

»Talents and Skills:
» Can easily control his own flames if small enough
» Large and intimidating, sometimes works in his favor
» Extremely Destructive, favors large amounts of fire
» Tries to take a good two or three apprentices with him in death. ( Has a habit to kamikaze himself when injured or in a large group of BLUs )

»Flaws:
» Headstrong, won't stop until he gets what he aims for regardless if its good or bad
» Extremely Ignorant
» Can be hot-tempered at times, and can result in him starting a physical fight
» Doesn't know when to stop, results in overkill on the field
» Has a sharp tongue, absolutely no filter from brain to mouth.

»Likes:
» Teasing/Flirting with mainly women...however will tease men affectionately if they're noticeably bothered by it
» Drinking
» Any form of fight he can manage to get himself into
» Any form of flame or fire, favors large explosions and large amounts of uncontrollable flame
» Discourse, especially when he isn't involved...however tends to get himself into it
» money

»Dislikes:
» Cocky/snarky characters
» " alliances " and " friendly " apprentices
» Both teams, honestly. Is only in it for the money and a place to stay
» The mentors, disrespects them constantly except his own...somewhat.
» Nosey characters, has slight paranoia with nosey apprentices and police.

»Extras:
» Formerly from the Russian Mafia
» Has a ' ranking ' complex, will fight teammates and opposite team to be top dog overall.
» Pyromaniac, has increases of adrenaline when starting fires. Tends to be extremely destructive with flames
» Due to his constant need to start flames he smokes, it keeps him from setting property on fire. The nicotine also helps calm him
» Doesn't tend to start fights with others, however will finish a fight if caught in one
» Street smart
» Extremely closed off, doesn't plan on making friends in the compound
» Has a noticeable accent, rolls r's somewhat frequently
» Keeps a black, engraved lighter on him constantly ( currently missing )
» Has a large burn scar on his lower pelvis stretching to his back and neck
» Prominently wears his mask on the field, dislikes people seeing his face.
» Masochistic

ll Weapons ll

»Primary: Flamethrower
»Secondary: Shotgun
»Melee: Fire Axe

ll Relationship Info ll

»Sexual Orientation: Aromantic Heterosexual ( Not interested in romance, but definitely alright with flings )
»Relationship Status: Single
»Preferences/Interests: Small girls, mainly ones that have fight in them. Not opposed to taller women however, especially if they dislike him
»Current Attractions: none
»Romantic Partner:

»Family: ??????

»Relationships:

ll RP Information ll

»RP Example:
Tabbs threw down the two large crates with a heave, the bullets clunking together inside as she stretched backwards and flinched as her spine made a pop. Alright, that chore was finally done...it was still a panic attack waiting to happen when she walked down the street with two large crates filled with clunking metal and pairs of eyes watching her silently. Tch...it made her want to drop the damn things and run for it when she'd hear the faint sound of sirens...even if it's been awhile, it still threw her off. She stretched her arms out, however her dominant one less so as a stinging pain came from her scars before turning to scope out the field. The heavy's eyes narrowed at the blurred sillouhuete across the field, head cocked to the side before the bright hair made the character obvious. He wasn't in his uniform...but then again she wasn't either from being out in town. She shrugged, her arms behind her head and hood pulled up over her head as she strolled non chalantly towards the opposite side of the field yet again. As she got closer however, she could tell the obvious bruises and cuts on his face...a stupid snarky smile on the RED's face as she broke the silence. " HEY! You like those scars? It's a thank-you for making me fucking respawn. " Her smile was somewhat fooling, her tone pretty passive-aggressive as she stopped at her freshley-drawn border in the red clay. " I had nausea for days, but you got rid of that nice headache you gave me at least...so thanks for that. Where the hell did you disappear to this time?? Did you go back to Utah. " Her tone suddenly dropped at the end of her sentance, smile fading to an unamused snarl.

»Time Zone: US/Canada EST
»Preferred Method for RP:

Skype: Sure! Just note me your skype and add me!
dA Chat: I'm never in the dA chat, so its not the best place to RP with me.
Notes: Sure, I can do notes. It's kinda unorganized but it can work.
Comments: No}

Image size

1466x1400px 2.87 MB

Comments18

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trinnnn

Sep 9, 2016

garbage man has no business looken this good