Background
Full name: Vasily Mikhailovich Khrustinov Age: 23
Vasily was born on May 26, (23 years before whatever year this is) to parents Mikhail Eduardovich Khrustinov and Babette Khrustinova (formerly Babette Stevens). Ethnically, he is half Russian, one-quarter Alaskan, and one-quarter French. His father was a prosperous supply outfitter who operated a number of dogsleds, caravans, rest stops, and even a few ancient bush planes which he used to transport and sell supplies to isolated communities. His mother was the daughter of a crab fisherman from Dutch Harbor and his homemaker wife. He was raised in the ethnic Russian community of Novaya Petrograd, an independent township in southern Alaska with an almost entirely Russian populace. His childhood was marred by frequent abuse from his peers, who insulted him for not being a “true Russian” and beat him on a regular basis. This abuse went unnoticed by his parents, and even if they had noticed it, they would have encouraged him to deal with it himself.
One Sunday evening, a young man, in a drug-induced stupor, decided to teach the ethno-mutt a “lesson he would never forget.” Incapable of seeing the consequences of his actions, he took an antique M1 Garand off his mantle, loaded it, and marched off into the darkness. The then-14 year old Vasily was just leaving church when the druggie swaggered up to him and raised the gun. Vasily leapt out of the way before the man fired; he had idiotically left the safety on. Though he had never so much as raised his fist before, Vasily understood that something had to be done. He drew his whittling knife and charged forward. The man finally fired, grazing Vasily’s back. While he was not severely wounded, the scar would stay with him for life. He retaliated with a quick stab up into the man’s ribs, killing him almost instantly. This event was important in two ways. First, Vasily made two major discoveries about life: one, that violence, while deplorable, is sometimes necessary, and two, that when he killed someone, he felt literally no remorse for the deed. It was as though the man wasn’t even alive, like he was just an object. Second, the abuse which had plagued Vasily’s life for fourteen years stopped for good. As a final souveneir, Vasily took the rifle that had almost killed him, and his father build a beautiful display case for it.
At fifteen, his father took him on as an apprentice, and he spent many days driving heavily laden dogsleds across the frozen wasteslands to deliver needed supplies to the people clinging to life in the wilderness. By the time he was seventeen, he had attained journeyman level, and was functioning as the middleman between the unionized workers and his father. It was due to this that there was a falling out between Vasily and his father. Though father and son had always shared a close relationship, the damage wrought then took five years to repair. The problem arose when a worker suffered severe injuries in the crash of one of his father’s aged bush planes. Though both plane and worker were recovered, Mikhail was incensed. He not only fired the worker, but demanded that he pay for damage to the plane, cost to recover it, and the cost of the lost supplies. The man was unable to pay this to begin with, and when medical bills were factored in the man would have lost literally everything. Vasily organized a strike against his own father and every one of his employees walked off the job. The strike only lasted for three days before Mikhail conceded, but it had a profound effect. By that time, the villages were screaming at Mikhail to give the strikers what they wanted so that the supplies would start flowing again. Mikhail agreed to stop pressing charges, and even rehired the man after he healed, but he was still enraged at his son for what he saw as his “betrayal”. Though his mother begged him to stay, on his eighteenth birthday he purchased supplies from a local outfitter and started south.
Vasily wandered Alaska and Cascadia for nearly a year before heading south to New Nevada Territory, where he found work with the Las Vegas Mining Company. It was during this time that he reestablished contact with his parents through Pony Express courier service, though his relationship with his father remained frosty. He despised the backbreaking labor of mining, and longed to do something greater. As soon as he had saved up enough money (about halfway through his twentieth year), he quit his job and spent the next few years as a wasteland scavenger based out of Quartz, learning what he could about the world from the library and gossip in the bar. Sometime during this period, his father forgave him, and they resumed their relationship. Though he was making plenty of money and doing quite well, Vasily still longed to be part of something greater. He was still a romantic at heart, something inherited from his mother, and fiercely nationalistic, inherited from his father. He wanted to experience honor and camaraderie, but he also wanted the sense of Russian heritage that the Desert Rangers lacked. He found the Sindikat.
Description
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 173 pounds
Build: well muscled
Hair Color/Style: Wavy black hair, worn slightly long
Eye color: hazel
Skin tone: naturally pale, but tanned darkly due to years spent in the wastelands
Style of speaking: Normally accentless, but affects a heavy Russian accent (or occasionally just rambles on in Russian) when inebriated
Stance/behavior: depends on mood (like all people), but his stance is generally relaxed and laconic, and he moves and speaks with deliberate slowness, planning out each move he makes carefully. His temper is practically non-existent, but when it is ignited it is best to get very far away. In combat, he generally wields a pistol and a knife simultaneously, though he is rarely stirred to this course of action.
Clothing preference: He will wear anything he can get his hands on, but he is currently clothed in the standard Sindikat “uniform”: tight black T-shirt, brown slacks, and leather shoes. He likes antique military headgear, and has been trying to get his hands on a G.I. helmet for some time.
IC Description
A short, stocky young man stands before you. He has wavy black hair and hazel eyes. His skin is deeply tanned and his facial features are Caucasian. His eyes appear slightly droopy and the ghost of a smile can be seen on his face. His nose is small and stubby. He is clad in a tight grey mucle shirt, worn brown slacks, and leather shoes. There is a black duffle bag slung over his left shoulder and a Siminov SKS rifle over his right. There is a worn brown belt around his waist with a knife sheath on the right hip and a pistol holster on the left. There is a radio hanging off of one of his belt loops.
Things To Do
-Add details about relationship with mother
-Flesh out description