Petrenko, Nevski

[Tulon Winters]

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CASE FILE: RIOTE Militant

Unlike Captain Jack, I always have vodka! *hic*
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FULL NAME:
→ Nevski Gretzel Petrenko

AGE:
→ 23

SEX:
→ Male

BIRTH PLACE:
→ Volgograd, Drachma

RACE:
→ Full bred Drachman

DEPARTMENT:
→ East Drachman HQ Commander

DATE OF BIRTH:
→ August 23, 1989

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HEIGHT:
→ 6' 3"

WEIGHT:
→ 220 lb.

PICTURE:
→

Spoiler:

DESCRIPTION:
→ Nevski is a roguish-looking and handsome man, with a chisled muscle structure and lightly bronzed skin. He has ebony black hair that falls straight down, reaching his mid-back. He has a lock of it reaching his chest, cutting a line between is deep, grass colored eyes, always with a look of determination and charm within them. He's a rather tall man, standing only a few inches above the 6 foot mark, and often looks down on his subordinates with a much larger cockpit than the rest of his fliers. He wears a blue leather jacket with a white v-neck undershirt, the jacket normally having its sleaves rolled up to his elbows, except when he's in the cockpit, then it's rolled down and zipped up to the top of its popped up collar. He wears baggy brown pants that tuck into his black leather combat boots. His hands are burned and scarred, but covered in black leather fingerless glove. Around his neck is his grandfather's dog tags, stained with blood from the Siege of Stalingrad. He often has them in his hands when he's worried, or a bottle of vodka to his lips, at least.

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PERSONALITY:
→ Nevski is usually a very relaxed guy, taking it easy with his subordinates, but always demanding respect from them all. He often talks in a very un-official tone unless he's being serious, then he'll start throwing military jargon around. He walks with his shoulders broad and back straight, always ready for a challenge, never being able to step down, no matter how bad he's doing and if he loses, he commendes his opponent like a real man. For as much as he drinks, he is quite the commander in the air and knows his share of history as well as aviation sciences. He loves his vodka, usually attached to a bottle and any hour of the day, his own collection his pride and joy. If tampered with at all, he'd most likely pepper the office room with buckshot and machine gun fire, for if there's one thing he can't tolerate, is people invading his privacy and especially his vodka stash. He greats men with an extended had and a smile, women with a bow, and his fellow comrades in arms with a salute, the way he feels it should go.

In combat, Nevski's style of attack consists of what he would call, "Controlled chaos followed by point-blank annihalation". He is fast and tricky, both on land and in the air, going for complete shock and awe with the aid of missiles and vodka-filled rage. He does what he has to to get the mission done, by any means nessesary, making his mission success/failure ratio fairly high. He has a feeling of certain obligation to those he's entrusted to protect and a sense of great anger to those he's commanded to destroy, especially if there's good reason to, but he's just as satisfied with random destruction. He has had problems in the past, since the will absolutly not intentionally kill civilians or the unarmed, seeing it as senseless and too cruel to let happen. He shares his comrades dislike for alchemy, but for the love of the challenge. Alchemy has bad ties to him, in several ways, mainly how destructive it was against the innocencts of Ishval so many years ago, as well as his own personal past. He fights for his country, himself, and his comrades.

LOVE:
→ Vodka
→ Metal, especially of the Power variety
→ Working out
→ His mountainous HQ
→ Flying with his team, the Murder (as in crows or ravens) of War.


HATE:
→ Cheap and nasty vodka
→ People stealing or misplacing his vodka
→ When his guns jam
→ Being forced to kill innocents
→ Alchemists


DEEPEST SECRET:
→ His hands are are burned and scarred from his gruesome childhood in Volgograd, which he never likes to ever talk about, he always tells everyone that it was a flight accident.


IDOL:
→ His grandfather, Dimitri Petrenko

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HISTORY:
→ The story starts decades before Nevski's birth...during a great war between all the powers of the world, with a man and his need to survive a great siege on his own city of Stalingrad. An infantryman at the gruesome sight, he fought his way through the Amestrian occupants for his need to continue to take back his Motherland, with the aid and force of what little was left of the forces left in Stalingrad. From that moment to the seizing of the capital of Drachma, he tore through the forces alongside his comrades, with an intense love for his country in his heart. This man's name...was Dimitri Petrenko. This man, like most, passed on his genes to the next generation, his son named Domonic. Early in his life, he had a child as well, and this is where Nevski's story begins.

He remembers his oblivious and happy youth with his sister, Nikita, remembering the times they played in the grey stones of what is now Volgograd, counting down the days till there father returned from the battlefront on the Amestrian line. They loved their home, but Mother would always say how she wanted to move away, how much see cried. And as Nevski and his sister grew up, they began to see why. Unbenonest to the siblings, their father was a notorious gambler and got in deep with local loan sharks. With their father gone, Nevski tried to pay off the debts by doing courier jobs for them, mostly transfering money and drugs. If they were normal, then it wouldn't be too hard to fight them off, Nikita and Nevski learned alot from Father, especially how to defend themselves, with fists or firearms. But these were different...they could make weapons from the ground in seconds and explode the very air around them in clouds of embers. Alchemists. And instead of using their power to protect Mother Drachma, they used it to terrorize those they had their hands around. Nevski started to get desperate, buying a pistol in his frustration. But he didn't have the courage to fire it.

Until that one day. He remembers it with crystal clear vision. Him and his sister were walking down from the market when they heard a scream from the open door of their apartment. Inside was a terrifying man, holding their mother inches above the ground by her neck, face bruised and the man trying to kiss her. He yelled at the children to leave them to their fun, then Nevski dropped the groceries...and grabbed the Glock from the back of his pants, pointing it at his head with shaking hands. But then he dropped their mother, and put on a leather glove, placing it against the wall. Concrete spikes erupted from the ground in sparks of blue, moving towards them in waves. Nevski tucked and rolled to the side, not lightening the grip on the gun. He couldn't see anything through the thick cloud of dust that hung in the small living room, but he heard an unsettling and unfamiliar sound; it was a sickening crunch and squish, coming from his right. It was his sister, her right leg pierced through by a large lance of cement. His eyes flashed into permanent scorn, his hand quickening to the man and his finger slamming down the trigger till every bullet was gone.

His sister rested in the hospital, his mother forced to move out by Nevski for her own safety, and Nevski staying by Nikita's side for the years of physical therapy after they had gotten an automail replacement. But those bullets started something Nevski wouldn't wish on anyone else; being hunted by alchemists. He tried to keep them at bay by moving from town to town with his sister, but one and only one caught up with him. He remembered him well, he was known as 'Kindler'. He could snap his fingers and explosions would soon insue. Nevski's kill count was still 1, this man's was well into the double digits. It was outside a small hamlet when he caught up. Nevski stood infront of his sister, gun aimed between the mans' eyes. Nevski was prepared for whatever pyrotechnic trick he would throw at him. And it was a large explosion only a foot away from him. He dropped the gun to cover his face, his hands burning and peeling skin. He was smoking on his clothes and hands but his sister was fine. Then he heard the gunshot.

His sister was was holding the black device, smoke slithering from the barrel. She had tears in her eyes as she looked at the crumpled body. Then she screamed as she threw the gun to the side and ran to hug his brother, sobbing into his shoulder. From then on, Nevski resented alchemists. They turned them both into something they thought they would never be, and did this to his sister. Hated them to the point of obsession. After his hands were healed, the drinking started. Heavy drinking, sending him into drunken rages. During on, as he screamed at the sky as tears ran down his face, he realized his life from then on couldn't be normal. He needed to use this hate to his advantage. Then he found the RIOTE.

He was beaten, broken, and rebuilt with the enthusiasm to unlock his military bloodline within him during basic training. And he did, but not in the form of an infantryman. He found comfort looking at the sky, so he tried his hand at the flight simulator. With months, almost years of training, he became an excellent pilot and soldier and built himself from his beginnings to the leader he has become today. What happens next is for Nevski to decide...

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TRIVIA:
→ Ace Pilot: Nevski is the greatest pilot of the RIOTE, using sporadic and confusing battle tactics.
→ Small Arms Training: Nevski's job is to watch and destroy from the skies, not on the ground combat, but he's taken steps to become acquainted with SMG and pistols if in fact he's need to use them
→ Mountain Man: Nevski has spent years in the East HQ, learning basic survival skills of mountainous and forested environments.
→ Drachman Blood: Due to his heritage, he can takes insane amounts of alcohol and still handle himself to some extent. He also has the famous Drachman courage that aided them in several wars.
→ PARKOUR!: After years of physical training, Nevski has developed the ability to use 'free running', his legs swift and his hands strong to grip edges and buildings.
→ Fluent in Drachman, Rouenian (Gelemortian Dialect), and Cretan

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ALIAS:
→ Tis Kume!~

OTHER CHARACTERS:
→ Kumero Ayashizu, Kit Estenial

CREATOR'S COMMENTS:
→ Nevski will be alot of fun, I hope. He's enjoys his vodka, but will not hesitate to destroy the enemy...Watch your back...and the skies

FACE CLAIM:

Code:

[b]Final Fantasy/Unknown[/b]/[i]Laguna Loire[/i]

CUSTOM RANK:
→ Drunken Raven

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[Tulon Winters]

Oh, man, forgot! Doi! 20 from Kit, 20 from Kumero.

[Guest]

REVISE

1) Your trivia... he specialises in a bit too much. Mountain-climbing free-runner uber-marksman pilot? Maybe cut down on one of them. I know for a fact that pilots WON'T be trained with any large weapons; pilots are usually given pistols as a last resort, or other compact standard-issue weaponry.

2) Stop making vague Call of Duty references. We get it. You have a boner for World War 2. The novelty is quickly wearing off. If I see you next make Tank Dempsey's grandson or something ridiculous... so help me I will call Treyarch and turn you in for copyright infringement.

3) Actually, you're going to need to check with Vanity and Aki about this; I'm not sure that a battle in Stalingrad ever happened, or a siege, or... anything, all things considered. Drachma is now, I think, still considered Soviet in MDA canon.

4) There is NO way in hell that a 6'3 man weighs 134lbs without being TREMENDOUSLY emaciated. I have an average-enough build at 6'1, and I weigh 190-200lbs. Especially considering Nevski's 'chiselled muscle structure'. Change it.

5) You'll need to make a Custom Weaponry app for his plane.

6) Gelemortian, or Rouenian (Gelemortian Dialect). Not 'Gele'. Don't be lazy.

[Tulon Winters]

According to Aki, history is considered canon, just add alchemists. The weaponry app has been made and approved, and the revisions have been made.

[Reila Tsukino]

APPROVED

Suhhweettt. Gettin' better.

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