meatysoviet: (If I were a rich man)
[He's standing outside the Olivine Pokécentre, having dropped off his Onix to recuperate while he looks around. He's dressed far more casually than usual (though his scarf is still obviously present), and his pokemon seem to be enjoying the change of scenery as much as he is.]

Olivine is a nice place, even though the trip was... a little peculiar. And long.

[He brushes off his coat a little, only to illegibly grumble as his Munchlax and Luvdisc take this as an invitation to get all up in his personal space, the Russian staying quiet while letting himself get accustomed to his new monsters-come-shoulder pads. It's a very stylish look.]

Am not even going to question what happened these last few days, is little point to do so, but I am curious as what there is to do in Olivine- I have ever been here before and all that leaps out at me is lighthouse. Is there anything else of interest?

Private to Minne:
Apologies for the wait, for some reason a few days last week were escaping me.

Where is your home? I am not going to pretend I know where it is- can you direct me from the Pokecenter, or another identifiable landmark?
meatysoviet: (Thinking)
[He's been doing a lot of thinking recently; about Team rocket, about Johto and various other things. There's one thing that he keeps coming back to though, and it's actually starting to annoy him.

The 'Gear's focused at the moment on his Munchlax, who is happily checking its fur for any food it's stashed away, devouring any and all of the matted, hairy mess as soon as it's discovered.

Delicious.]


Have had Dipshit for very long time. Had Vodyanoy for less and has involved already...

So how do you get monsters to evolve? Have not managed to get any of them to evolve yet. Am obviously missing something.

[The 'Gear moves to Catherine, the Scyther contentedly preening herself, his Sunkern giving soft, purring like noises as it sleeps beside her.]

Even Catherine has not yet- is odd, is very dutiful creature...

Anyway, tell me how to make my monsters stronger Johto, am fed up of fighting harder battles on my own, not that it isn't rather thrilling~
meatysoviet: (Hasing a fucking sad guys.)
[Action]

[It's been a while since Valentine's, and he's noticed the people he knows have been awfully quiet since then.  He's been pretty quiet himself, perhaps a little embarrassed even, over his reaction to the holiday, almost thankful that the calls he was sending were either going through to voicemail or just not being picked up.

That was until he got to Alfred's number. Alfred was never too busy to pick up, or respond quickly after missing a call, he'd learnt that already, but now... He couldn't even get through to the number, listening to the automated message a few times before the reality of the situation could sink in. Alfred was gone.

He'd gone home... Before him.

That was.... That was just, just... unfair.

He tried a few more times to get through, moving onto text when audio was obviously getting him nowhere, trying to get a grip on what exactly he was feeling, the emotion confusing at best; Part of him was glad the other was gone, back to where they belonged (hopefully) and wasn't stuck in this hole like the rest of them, while another part of him was furious that Alfred, who had only just got here, had gotten out so easily- was making friends the way out or something? Hit a quota and you were spat out? It wouldn't surprise him in this place- it was just as stupid as Alfred was.

He let his fingers slow from the rabid button mashing they'd kept to, sending out one last message to the populace before throwing the gear away from him- the urge to try calling the blonde one last time was still tingling in his fingers, swallowing down the other emotion that was lingering at the corners of his mind... There was no point getting upset the other man was gone, not now.]

[Text]

Alfred is gone. Good riddance.


[If you need him, he'll either be in Rocket HQ sulking thinking, or just walking around town, trying to get out of his glass case of EMOTIONS.]


meatysoviet: (Glasses are apparently sexy)
[The video opens on the view a pair of wiggling Munchlax feet as the pokémon sits on its seat, the feet of a Scyhter apparent in the background before the camera is turned, for a second the large mouth of the teal pokémon before focusing on the owner of the owner of the 'Gear, who for a moment appears to be a lump of black coat and white fabric before the soviet emerges from his makeshift cocoon, adjusting the newly aqquired glasses on his face and sitting up from his nestling position in the corner of what was obviously now the Magnet train. Which way he was going however was not so obvious.]

Dipshit, gear here. Now.  Am needing it.

[The gear is dutifully handed over, the Russian looking at it for a moment before switching the video off. People now knew he was on the Magnet train, he didn't need to give people any more clues to his location.]

[ Private text message to Minnie.]

You are in Saffron, yes? Meet me near the pokémon centre there.

I will see you soon.
meatysoviet: (Thoughts of Ukraine)
[There's not very much to this text other than what's written. There doesn't really need to be all things considered.]

What do your pokémon mean to you?

[Humor him, he's genuinely curious.]
meatysoviet: (Gonna party like its 1939)
[There's not much to begin with, just a stretch of grassland on what looks to be just outside of Goldenrod. The camera is a fiddled with a little bit before the the Russian's torso and waist mottle the camera's view, the soviet in overly casual attire as he takes a step back, his body shifting as he speaks to someone on the other side of the camera lens.]

Is running?


Scy...

Angles is good?

Munchlah~!

Good. Get over here.

[He crouches down, thumbing down one of the braces attatched to his pants before looking into the camera, flipping his fringe to the side before speaking. His pokémon can be seen walking past him, his Scyther standing patiently while his Munchlax appears to be something akin to calf stretches... If it had calves that is.]

Know this is public- is only public since am not knowing how to switch over to private video, if such thing exists. Because of this, stop watching, video of mine is none of your business.

[He pulls away, checking the angle one more time before grabbing something off screen and walking over to his Pokemon, the item turning out to be a thick branch, the Russian looking at his team before lunging forward--

That's when all hell breaks loose and they all apparently start trying to kill each other. Thankfully, there seems to be very minimal success of that happening from all parties. Not that there isn't alot of hits being landed, it's just Johto seems to be a little more forgiving when it comes to injurys than most places. This fight looks like it's going to take awhile, though the reason its being filmed still isn't overly certain to anyone other than the group that are far to busy ripping each others hair out in clumps to comment on anything.]

Ongoing Bio

Feb. 1st, 2004 10:44 pm
meatysoviet: (Got you in my sights)
[My bio if forever ongoing]

✯Ivan Braginsky
✯CCCP/USSR/Soviet Russia
✯Circa 1941
✯Male

✯✯✯☭ Appearance ☭✯✯✯

Brags is an obviously heavy man, though his standing at approximately 6'5" does a lot to proportion it. His build is an odd one- thick muscle in some places, enough to see definition and in other places any muscle there is covered with an ample layer of adipose padding. This is mostly due to the heavy amounts of protein, white starch and sugars in the soviet diet, amongst other things. His arms, legs, and chest are hairy, just shy of beastly, his hair growth pattering out into a treasure trail down to his navel (and beyond the beltline). His body hair a shade or two darker than his tresses, though that fact isn't noticeable at a glance.

His skin is pale and very slightly jaundiced, making his his ash blonde hair and purple eyes more striking against them, though it also makes the rosecea lining his cheeks and the bridge of his nose more obvious, something he does his best to ignore. His off coloured skin tone and cheeks are from a few decades of both heavy drinking and smoking, and also due to living in such a polluted ecosystem with a mentality of forced eviromental ignorance. His face is usually covered by his cap, the article barely leaving his head unless instructed or out of uniform. He usual posture is tense and rigid, walking with the slightest hint of the Stechschritt (or 'goose step' for its more comical name), the intensity of said walking quick becoming more or less apparent depending how relaxed he is. The times he slouches fully are few and far between, though the change in his posture is noticeable when he's drinking or, most likely, already obviously drunk.

His wardrobe is plain, wearing either his uniform (second picture below) his coat (similar to the one he wears in the series but closer to the actual greatcoats used during the period in either tan or grey) or, very rarely, civillian clothing, all of which heavily utilitarian and bland compared to his uniform. His scarf is prominent in most, if not all these outfits, the simple woolen garment now a pale yellow with age and caustic washing. He carrys his ration book and a small silver flask with him, but it is more to fiddle with in times of boredom than to drink from. He does still drink from it on occasion, the contents a rather potent home-made samogon (home made vodka). He dislikes wearing anything that outshines his uniform, be it parade or field, because the Union is meant to be the the colourful aspect of his existence for now. That and the general public find things such as jeans and whatnot presumptious unless under the age of 21. Ivan is far from young and rebellious looking, especially in his own opinion.


✯✯✯☭Personality☭✯✯✯

Braginsky is straight forward, or at least, he enjoys putting up the pretense; what he considers simple and straight forward is skewed and often changes to suit the situation at the time. He isn't a fan of having blame held over him and can and will go to extreme lengths to prove himself correct, or to have a scapegoat if all else fails.

Regardless of his usually arrogant demeanor with people he is terribly neurotic and his paranoia and stress over sometimes ridiculous issues fuels most if not all of his 'bad habits'. His arrogant way with people either keeps them at bay, or makes sure they hold him in a negative standing, which is what he wants, in a way; Brags doesn't want help or assistance, however much his Leaders willingly take any donations sent their way. He does do his damndest, however, to make 'helpful' parties think twice on assisting, at least on a personal level. He would never actually go against his boss however, not unless he had no other choice; it's not as if rebellion has done anything but give his people something else to complain about recently.

The idea of being helped (and needing it) to him is a sign of obvious weakness, something he's not gotten over since being the Yoke of Tatar, Mongolia leaving far more marks on him than he would ever willingly admit. Because of this adverse fear he will keep people at arms length, even ones that he cares about, using force and humiliation to do so if needed. His past relations with most, if not all the nations around him have affected him heavily in some way, especially if the relations were negative, as Braginsky is a very heavy grudge holder; his 'relationship' with Lithuania is in most part solely a way of paying the other man back for all the times when he was a Duchy, and eager to hold the Russian's lands as his own. There are some feelings under his heavy scrutiny however, he often just finds it very hard to remember sometimes that they actually do exist.

His opinions on the other countries are similar, though the positive opinions on them are a little less buried; part of him truly wants to live in a world in which they all coexisted peacefully (if there wasn't he wouldn't have given Marxism the time of day, let alone how much devotion he's put into it) but there has and will always be the pessimist in him waiting for his (and other countries) people to fuck it all up, as they are so prone to doing. He has yet to be proved wrong, and he's already starting to see the slope. It's one of the reasons he's in such an ignorant state of denial.

He's no stranger to pain and, while other nations have tried to bury their more psychopathic urges, Braginsky pushes his cruelty into his work. What interrogations and executions with his group don't relieve him of he relieves with experimentation; fuelling objects with radioactivity, reanimating the dead, the effects of temperature, chemicals and electricity on organs- whatever his curiosity leads him to. What he isn't allowed to toy with in Moscow's military or university laboratories, he moves to his own private quarters; a small shack hidden in the forestation in the Urals, north of Magnitogorsk. It's far from high tech, and a far cry from sanitary work conditions, but there are plenty of creatures nearby and it's a quiet place to rip something apart and let his mind wander. If he's not at home, or at work, it's almost certain he will be there.

With so much hate, distrust and unadulterated rage working through the Russian's mind half the time, it's not surprising he isn't seeking love, companionship or affection. When he does however, watch out; there are heavy chances it the relationship will become akin to a parasitic affair. Brags can, has and will abuse his loved ones emotionally, psycologically and physically to keep them by his side. As well as being quick to grow jealous and anger over a partner, he also holds little, if none, of the same values himself; he can and will drunkenly sleep with other women (or men under very certain conditions) and only consider his actions afterwards, sometimes not even until his partner reacts to it themselves.

... <blink>I</blink>
meatysoviet: (Proud soldier of the sickle)

☭Appearence☭ 

 

Brags is an obviously heavy man, though his standing at approximately 6'5" does a lot to proportion it. His build is an odd one- thick muscle in some places, enough to see definition and in other places any muscle there is covered with an ample layer of adipose padding. This is mostly due to the heavy amounts of protein, white starch and sugars in the soviet diet, amongst other things. His arms, legs, and chest are hairy, just shy of beastly, his hair growth pattering out into a treasure trail down to his navel. His body hair a shade or two darker than his tresses, though that fact isn't noticeable at a glance.  

 

His skin is pale and very slightly jaundiced, making his his ash blonde hair and purple eyes more striking against them, though it also makes the rosecea lining his cheeks and the bridge of his nose more obvious, something he does his best to ignore. His off coloured skin tone and cheeks are from a few decades of both heavy drinking and smoking, and also due to living in such a polluted ecosystem with a mentality of forced eviromental ignorance. His face is usually covered by his cap, the article barely leaving his head unless instructed or out of uniform. He usual posture is tense and rigid, walking with the slightest hint of the Stechschritt (or 'goose step' for its more comical name), the intensity of said walking quick becoming more or less apparent depending how relaxed he is. The times he slouches fully are few and far between, though the change in his posture is noticeable when he's drinking or, most likely, already obviously drunk.

 

His wardrobe is plain, wearing either his uniform (second picture below) his coat (similar to the one he wears in the series but closer to the actual greatcoats used during the period in either tan or grey) or, very rarely, civillian clothing, all of which heavily utilitarian and bland compared to his uniform. His scarf is prominent in most, if not all these outfits, the simple woolen garment now a pale yellow with age and caustic washing. He carrys his ration book and a small silver flask with him, but it is more to fiddle with in times of boredom than to drink from. He does still drink from it on occasion, the contents a rather potent home-made samogon (home made vodka). He dislikes wearing anything that outshines his uniform, be it parade or field, because the Union is meant to be the the colourful aspect of his existance for now. That and the general public find things such as jeans and whatnot presumptious unless under the age of 21 (then it's just seen as childish silliness that should be curbed, most likely with the belt). Ivan is far from young and rebellious looking, especially in his own opinion. 

 

 

☭Personality☭

 

Braginsky is straight forward, or at least, he enjoys putting up the pretense; what he considers simple and straight forward is skewed and often changes to suit the situation at the time. He isn't a fan of having blame held over him and can and will go to extreme lengths to prove himself correct, or to have a scapegoat if all else fails.


 Regardless of his usually arrogant demeanor with people he is terribly neurotic and his paranoia and stress over sometimes ridiculous issues fuels most if not all of his 'bad habits'. His arrogant way with people either keeps them at bay, or makes sure they hold him in a negative standing, which is what he wants, in a way; Brags doesn't want help or assistance, however much his Leaders willingly take any donations sent their way. He does do his damndest, however, to make 'helpful' parties think twice on assisting, at least on a personal level. He would never actually go against his boss however, not unless he had no other choice; it's not as if rebellion has done anything but give his people something else to complain about recently. 

 

The idea of being helped (and needing it) to him is a sign of obvious weakness, something he's not gotten over since being the Yoke of Tatar, Mongolia leaving far more marks on him than he would ever willingly admit. Because of this adverse fear he will keep people at arms length, even ones that he cares about, using force and humiliation to do so if needed. His past relations with most, if not all the nations around him have affected him heavily in some way, especially if the relations were negative, as Braginsky is a very heavy grudge holder; his 'relationship' with Lithuania is in most part solely a way of paying the other man back for all the times when he was a Duchy, and eager to hold the Russian's lands as his own. There are some feelings under his heavy scrutiny however, he often just finds it very hard to remember sometimes that they actually do exist.

 

His opinions on the other countries are similar, though the positive opinions on them are a little less buried; part of him truly wants to live in a world in which they all coexisted peacefully (if there wasn't he wouldn't have given Marxism the time of day, let alone how much devotion he's put into it) but there has and will always be the pessimist in him waiting for his (and other countries) people to fuck it all up, as they are so prone to doing. He has yet to be proved wrong, and he's already starting to see the slope. It's one of the reasons he's in such an ignorant state of denial.

 

He's no stranger to pain and, while other nations have tried to bury their more psychopathic urges, Braginsky pushes his cruelty into his work. What interrogations and executions with his group don't relieve him of he relieves with experimentation; fuelling objects with radioactivity, reanimating the dead, the effects of temperature, chemicals and electricity on organs- whatever his curiosity leads him to. What he isn't allowed to toy with in Moscow's military or university laboratories, he moves to his own private quarters; a small shack hidden in the forestation in the Urals, north of Magnitogorsk. It's far from high tech, and a far cry from sanitary work conditions, but there are plenty of creatures nearby and it's a quiet place to rip something apart and let his mind wander. If he's not at home, or at work, it's almost certain he will be there.

 

With so much hate, distrust and unadulterated rage working through the Russian's mind half the time, it's not surprising he isn't seeking love, companionship or affection. When he does however, watch out; there are heavy chances it the relationship will become akin to a parasitic affair. Brags can, has and will abuse his loved ones emotionally, psycologically and physically to keep them by his side. As well as being quick to grow jealous and anger over a partner, he also holds little, if none, of the same values himself; he can and will drunkenly sleep with other women (or men under very certain conditions) and only consider his actions afterwards, sometimes not even until his partner reacts to it themselves. 

Profile

meatysoviet: (Default)
Ivan Braginsky [Soviet Union circa 1941]

May 2012

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