sergei-vladimir

[sergei-vladimir]

Twisted

When was the last time that he had spoken to Nicholai Ginovaef?

Ages, it seemed. The two had a spat, similar to a lover’s quarrel. It was a heated argument that ended in both men feeling bitter. Silence fell between the two. A mixture of emotions flooded his core being. He was angry. Aside from that, the Russian was his normal, cold and cruel self. Punctual as always, he carried on with business. As a loyal dog to Umbrella, Sergei Vladimir performed his duty without so much as a question or a second thought.

Fate ensnared him in its grasp. Colonel Vladimir was destined to carry out a mission with his old friend. The notion irked him greatly. The night after discovering this news was thrown into disarray. Why, he even broke a lamp or two in the privacy of his own home. His double-edged blade was embedded within a bullseye. Apparently, darts weren’t that efficient for stress relief.

The location was a simple one: Meet at an abandoned warehouse. This, of course, was as cliché as can be, reminiscent of some spy or action flick. Not that he cared. He was much too apathetic to give a damn. As long as he could get the job done… Then, that was the only thing that mattered. Sergei would repress his feelings. Emotions were useless in this field, after all. They were unnecessary. The only thing that feelings bred was pain.

A cerulean orb icily glanced around his surroundings with great disdain. It was much too quiet for his liking. The grey walls were soaked with mold and mildew. The scent caused great discomfort. It was a damn good thing he wasn’t allergic to it. Charcoal boots tapped across the ground, producing a dull thumping sound. Gray locks obscured his other, scarred orb. Thin lips were twisted into a frown. While he walked, his treasured blade twirled within his grasp. 

A sidelong glance revealed nothing. No one. Not a single soul lurked about. There was something peculiar about this… He just couldn’t put his finger on what. With a long sigh, his shoulders tensed up. Where the hell was Silver Fox? He should have been here already.

That man was proving to be a thorn in his side.

[sergei-vladimir]

To say that he hated Albert Wesker would be an understatement. He despised the man’s refusal to follow orders. This idea, alone, irked him to no end. Wars of the past taught him to obey and respect your higher ups. It was a simple task that even an idiot could follow. Yet, those who strayed from the path practically beckoned for chaos to ensue. It was men like Wesker that should be looked at with a wary eye. His kind were the ones to produce more war and destroy everything for power’s sake.

Sergei thought that he would be doing Spencer a favor by disposing of the blonde.

Morpheus Duvall, a fellow scientist and research, got in touch with the Russian out of the blue. A series of letters were exchanged between the two. Truth be told, Colonel Vladimir was intrigued. Dr. Duvall ��had piqued his curiosity. Their opinions were similar. For that, Sergei was thankful. It would be a great help to have someone work alongside him in order to knock Albert down from his pedestal.

Time flew by as it usually did. A meeting had been arranged. In the boardroom, Sergei straightened his frame and peered at the door with great anticipation. His jaw twitched ever so slightly. His lone, cerulean hue roved over the figure that stood before him. Although he made no move to stand, he spread his arms with a wolfish grin.

“Welcome, Comrade Duvall. This may not be my humble abode, but do make yourself comfortable.”

Outside of the small medical facility was scalding hot, the result of a recent wave of temperature fluxes that had most of the populous in the area exasperated. The parking lot was free of most visiting vehicles besides his own, giving him an ebbing feeling of discomfort. Nevertheless, Morpheus...

[sergei-vladimir]

-Listens to Wesker's tale with great impassivity. What is there to say, after all?-

...Ah, but you replaced Spencer's delusions with your own. You are the Morning Star. You know you will fall- Or perhaps you truly do not and refuse to acknowledge it. -Muses aloud, although it comes across as gibberish to any normal man.-

Warning me? How the tables have turned, Comrade Wesker... Our goals may be similar, but our methods differ greatly. A true pity.

I and twelve others were taken away for his own nefarious, delusional purposes. Just to see who would survive and be his personal pet in his new world. So, excuse me if I don’t have the same sentiments for the old man as you do.

Tch, feel free to think whatever you want about the concepts of loyalty and trust, just don’t get in my way. This is my only warning.

[sergei-vladimir]

I don't believe it's anything that you can help me with. -Shakes his head, feeling like a petty fool.-

the-devils-queen replied to your post:

*notices his frown* Is there something wrong, Mr. Vladimir?

[sergei-vladimir]

...Hm. -Frowns at the name.- I will see what I can do. I'm sure they'll be easy to remove. -Chuckles coldly.- Do not fret, Comrade. I will take care of the matter.

the-devils-queen replied to your post:

The group doesn’t go by a specific name, it helps them evade trouble that way. I have all of my faith in your men, specifically Nicholai Ginovaef, to make this a successful mission. I’m so glad you’ve decided to help.

[sergei-vladimir]

-Listens with a half-lidded orb.- Da. I see. You've piqued my interest, Comrade Gionne. It sounds promising. Yet, I require further information. Do you have a name? Or must I leave that to my men?

the-devils-queen replied to your post:

There’s been a group of activists who have been rustling the feathers of our UK facility. They’re the kind of activists who will break into our property to steal samples, test subjects, whatever they can get their hands on to sell to the press. I’d like for you and a handful of your best men to teach them a lesson and silence them before anything gets out. Interested?

[sergei-vladimir]

the-devils-queen replied to your post:

How have you been, Mr. Vladimir?      I’m sorry to hear that. They’ve been getting better - I’m getting closer and closer to the due date as time wears on. But I have a mission for the UBCS, if you’re interested…

Enlighten me, Comrade. I'm eager to hear what you have to say.

[sergei-vladimir]

How have you been, Mr. Vladimir?

I could be... Better, but I have been well. Loneliness is a peculiar thing. A strange ache. I will not dwell on it. How are you, Comrade Gionne? Are the children giving you a rough time? -Offers a faint smirk.-

[sergei-vladimir]

Spencer supplied me with purpose. Something you will never understand, Comrade. -Clenches his jaw.- When I had nowhere else to go, he took me in. My loyalty is akin to a dog's. A dog of war I will always be. It is a matter of paying one's dues, but you are much too young to take this into consideration.

My loyalty got me as far as I expected. I have come a long way. ...You could say that I've risen from the ashes.

You honestly believe that old man was going to “save the world”? I don’t know if I should laugh or pity you. He was using Umbrella, all of us, as stepping stones to fulfilling his goal.

I would expect you to be more upset at Spencer, especially considering he was going to toss you aside once he claimed his utopia. But no, your blind loyalty causes you to bristle with pride. The same loyalty that caused your downfall.

[sergei-vladimir]

ooc

{{ Muses are a fickle thing. Inspiration comes and goes. New muses arise from the ashes or are simply born. WELP. Just wanna say I'm back... For the most part. My internet activity is always hectic and I apologize for that. If anyone is interested in talking to me, feel free to message me. Love you guys. <3 }}

[sergei-vladimir]

ooc

{{ Hi,  guys... It's been awhile. o uo And I don't know what's going on or who to follow anymore. }}

[sergei-vladimir]

The Quote’s Relevance to Character

“Is there anything in life so disenchanting as attainment?” -Robert Louis Stevenson

Longing gazes and accidental touches were a part of their first encounters. Sergei had respected Nicholai. The man knew how to obey orders. It helped that the two were Russian, as stereotypical as that sounded. 

“Silver Fox,” he uttered the nickname (once a codename) with a certain fondness. “There is something I wish to say. Nyet! Don’t give me that look. I am not here to scold you or taunt your prowess on the battlefield. I merely want to say…” He swallowed. He couldn’t say it.

“Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell.” -William Shakespeare

The moment he laid eyes upon Albert Wesker, he knew that he would despise that man. They played a charade, pretending to be friends. Mere co-workers who shared an unhealthy obsession for science.

Sergei knew better.

He suspected the worst from Wesker. He predicted a day where the arrogant blonde would betray the company. Sadly, the Russian was right. Not a single person believed him. Rather, no one cared. Everyone was wrapped up in their own selfish desires: To better humanity through virology. 

Everyone turned a blind eye to Albert’s antics.

The golden child… Sergei mused to himself. 

It was only a matter of time before the Colonel vowed to ruin Wesker.

“We are puppets on strings worked by unknown forces;

We ourselves are nothing, nothing!” -George Büchner

He was a slave to Umbrella, too blind to see the truth. His loyalty was a thick veil that covered his cerulean gaze. He served as the executioner with Spencer as the merciless judge. Murder for a cause. Not that he minded. There was something reassuring about his dual-sided blade. Something alluring about the way the silver glistened beneath the fluorescent lighting. Something attractive about the metallic taste and odorous scent of blood…

His tongue darted out between his sun-kissed lips, wetting them in the process.

A scientist and a soldier. The two made for a terrible combination. The two roles bred insanity.

Sergei obeyed every command that was barked at him. 

There was no questioning in questioning his superiors, regardless of his own powerful position. That is, until Albert Wesker took the stage. That man made him inquire about his own role in life and in Umbrella. Sergei’s mind betrayed his will. He tried to shake away the plaguing thoughts, but to no avail. It was Wesker’s fault… The man had to be taught a lesson. 

There was no room for disobedience.

“The madman is not the man who has lost his reason. The madman is the man who has lost everything except his reason.” -G.K. Chesterton

He lost his men. His mother. And now, his love.

What had he done to deserve such cruelty? 

Not a damn thing.

Life was a cruel mistress that Sergei had grown accustomed to.

In his fiery youth, Sergei came home from a day at the factory. Manufacturing warfare had become a natural forte. Alas, the sight he saw in his humble abode… Even in the present, he can’t quite stomach it. He closed his eye, remembering it all as if it were a photograph. 

His mother’s body is sprawled across linoleum. A tangle of limbs and viscera. Her intestines dragged across the floor as if a dog had sampled her flesh. Maroon painted the floor and splashed against the gray walls. He could barely look. An anguished cry brushed past his lips. 

He sank to his knees, howling and sobbing.

Years passed. He became a dog of war. Sergei ruled with an iron fist in order to make up for the chaos of his past. His closest comrade died in his arms.

And now, this. 

Nicholai had given up the ghost. Oh, how Sergei’s heart bled for that man! A savage explosion had  blown his body apart right before his blue gaze. No more. He could handle no more. His mind was a spectacle of the past. 

“If there is a hell upon earth, it is to be found in a melancholy man’s heart.” -Robert Burton

Nicholai, dear Nicholai, had broken Sergei’s heart. The man would never heal. Anger made certain of that. After Nicholai’s bitter attitude towards their love, the Colonel was crestfallen. To cope, rage replaced grief. He put all of his energy into his work. Yet, even that could not detour him from the ache of desire. It was a bitter pang within his chest.

Salt poured into a wound.

Acid scourging flesh. 

A ridiculous cliché followed by another.

“Why did you forsaken me, Silver Fox?” He uttered to himself. 

‘Codename Silver Wolf, eh? You hardly look like a wolf to me, Ginovaef. More like a… Fox, da.’

‘Would you care to challenge that?’ Cocky, even to the end.

His words cut through the silence. A stinging sensation. The proud man winced, peering at the paperwork that littered the floor. The computer was beyond repair, obliterated. The cracked monitor glowed a dull, blue shade. It was broken like himself. 

[sergei-vladimir]

Headcanon: Reports

Weathered digits trailed across the electronically printed script. You missed the old days where things were written by hand. People were sincere with their reports. Blunt and proper. At least punctuality hadn’t faded away in this modern day and age.

[sergei-vladimir]

Headcanon: Umbrella

{{ This should make up for my inactivity... OTL }}

The metal pin feels cool beneath his calloused touch. Fluorescent lighting bounces off the broad, gold wings which glimmered brightly. Naturally, the company’s logo remains in the dead center of the pin. Red and white alternate. This minute object seals his permanent allegiance to Umbrella. Dogs of war, after all, are loyal to their masters.

Spencer had given it to Colonel Vladimir as a token of his gratitude.

His fate was sealed from that day on.

[sergei-vladimir]

{{ WHAT IS ANATOMY? -Flounces.- BU Here! Have a shoddy picture to make up for my inactivity. Now, I have to work on a sketch for Waffle Queen, Jamie. }}

[sergei-vladimir]

ooc

{{ Hiya, guys. I have full internet access this weekend. So, I'll be around. c: }}

[sergei-vladimir]

That's something completely new to me, Comrade. Ah. -Offers a curt nod.- I see.

...How interesting. If I said the same for myself, then I would be lying.

Lemme tell ya somethin’, chiefy, when I set my mind ta somethin’, it gets done, end’a story. An’ if I say I’m gonna quit after this here cigarette…

((Takes one last drag, flicks cigarette butt away, exhales))

………then that’s precisely what’s gonna happen, my friend. If I’m…